


Even If The World Should Turn Against Us

by N0S0CKS, p0rk



Series: Liebchen [2]
Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Boot Worship, D/s, Dissociation, Dreams, Impact Play, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, now with fanart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12433155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N0S0CKS/pseuds/N0S0CKS, https://archiveofourown.org/users/p0rk/pseuds/p0rk
Summary: Hogan pushes the boundaries of his arrangement with Klink in the middle of a difficult last-minute assignment. After being harassed by the Gestapo and pushed to a breaking point, Klink gives in and decides to show Hogan how authoritarian he can be. Hogan faces his personal crisis head-on while being held to Klink’s challenge of self-discipline. Even as they grow closer, Hogan’s lies begin to unravel and dangerous secrets are discovered while he struggles to maintain control.Each chapter's end notes contain detailed summaries with warnings and info regarding tags!Now with explicit fanart at the end of Chapter 2!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We'll be posting detailed summaries in the end notes of each chapter. The summaries may contain spoilers and may mention or describe the sensitive material listed in the work's tags. Some details in this story may be non-compliant with canon. Thank you for reading! We love feedback!

“Tonight.”

The morning started out as any ordinary late autumn day in Stalag 13. Klink had given Hogan the cold shoulder per usual against the riotous behavior that he seemed keen on keeping anymore. The kommandant was growing accustomed to Hogan rolling out fifteen, sometimes thirty minutes late for the morning roll call for one reason or another. He was becoming insubordinate and openly disrespectful.

Sure enough, the colonel sauntered through the door a little too assertively for a man in his position—then again when had he ever acted like a proper prisoner? His mood was unsteady as Klink tried to read it before Hogan approached the edge of his desk. These frequent visits were for all varieties of reasons but most often it was to barter for better rations, hot water, later roll calls— and of course, he  _came_  for Klink as well, in all manners of the word.   
  
“You hear that, Kommandant? _Tonight_.”

Today's challenge would be trying to figure out what the hell Hogan wanted. Klink stuck him with a trademark scowl. The first thing out of the colonel's mouth was not 'good morning', not even a complaint. Instantly the kommandant brooded. Klink's eyes had been watching the door long before Hogan strolled through it, and now they followed the colonel as he fumbled with his hat before dropping it onto Klink’s helmet. The man looked as if he didn't sleep very well, or perhaps he was just distracted by other thoughts. Klink opted to say nothing and let Hogan spill whatever it was that seemed to be bothering him.   
  
“Tonight. I want to see you. You know what I want. How come you keep dodging me? I thought you wanted me.” He dropped his voice low and rounded the desk to come sit on it where Klink rested his arms. A hand dared to reach out and trace the stiff collar of his suit, eyes smoldering as he made sure that the kommandant knew it was all for him. Klink couldn't help the chill that started just behind his ears. From there it traveled from the back of his head, down, down,  _down_ , until he felt the spark ignite a familiar and warm fire in the pit of his stomach.

There was a division of excitement and terror that filled him every time Hogan risked this kind of behavior in Klink's office. Anyone could walk in right now and find them in this precarious position. Hogan hadn’t even locked the door behind him.

“Don't do this right now—,” Klink protested but Hogan knew he was weak and leaned forward to kiss him. His hand slipped underneath the uniform jacket and curled around the silk tie. “ _Incorrigible_ ,” Klink muttered in a hot breath against Hogan's traveling fingers. It was too easy for the colonel to arouse him, and it wasn't very fair. “Hogan, you shouldn't be doing this here.” He was holding back, obviously. He was nervous, naturally. He was still refusing to kiss him, and Hogan was growing impatient.  
  
“Why not?” Hogan’s sweet smile faltered and betrayed a cruel smirk. “You've been blowing me for weeks but you won't fuck me? What gives? I might have to take another offer here soon. I got a really hot gray-hair in Barracks 8 asking me to come see him behind the delousing station. He’s not _you_ , but, well…” Judging by the serious look Klink gave him, Hogan had been convincing enough with his lies today.   
  
“Barracks 8?” Klink mentally inventoried his prisoners. A ‘gray-hair?’ It must have been Sergeant Mills—not that it mattered beyond distracting him from the real issue. “I see what’s going on here. You are being a _brat_!” Klink snapped coolly, easily handling the English term. Deep down inside of him, the flame for Hogan grew brighter but now out of jealousy, something which surprised the kommandant. He never thought he'd  _care_  if Hogan sought the company of someone else. Of course, he’d comfortably trusted that Hogan couldn’t get his hands on a woman, and until their first night together he’d never considered that Hogan might seek out a man.

He’d trusted that Hogan would have known better than to make such a foolish mistake. He couldn’t really be reckless enough to do something like that with one of his own men—but he’d already proven foolish enough to sleep with Klink.

“You _must_ listen to me when I tell you not to be so careless about this. I’ve been at this a lot longer than you and I’ve learned how to avoid being suspected. If you keep pushing it, you’re going to get caught!”

 

The phone began to ring before Hogan could speak to dismiss his concern. Klink rolled his eyes as he reached around him for it and held it up to his ear. It was hard to snap to attention with Hogan all but sitting in his lap, harder yet as the colonel was obnoxious enough to try to ease him out of his tie by unpinning the clip and pulling it out from where Klink had neatly tucked it. Hogan's fingers were trying the buttons at the collar— one, two, three of them opened and he ran his hand along the freshly shaven neck before lowering his fingers to his collar bones to trace a white scar. 

_Stop distracting me_ , Klink mouthed at the man, his attention fully focused on Hogan and not the minutia he should have been responding to over the phone.   
  
_“Klink? Did you hear what I just asked you?”_  Burkhalter stopped his usual report, his voice elevated enough for Klink to hear it with the phone away from his face. He realized that he had failed to answer the general’s question.

“Y-yes, absolutely, that will be fine ... What am I agreeing on?” He asked glumly before Burkhalter's nasally voice berated him over the wire.

Hogan sank lower between Klink's knees and underneath the desk, the kommandant helplessly leaning back as Hogan continued to distract him.   
  
It was hard to remember what Burkhalter told him the second time around with Hogan unbuttoning his pants and reaching in with an evil smirk. Klink's vision narrowed as his eyes could only look down into the full head of hair going down on him quite unexpectedly. As Hogan's perfect mouth wrapped around his cock he couldn't help the soft moan he gave straight into the phone. Burkhalter railed on him again before informing him that the Gestapo were on their way and would be arriving in about an hour.

_“Try not to embarrass yourself this time, Klink!”_ Burkhalter’s voice faintly screamed out of the receiver Klink no longer held to his ear.

“Hogan! I said, not now. How dare you disrespect me like this!” He snapped while slamming the phone down, suddenly filled with distress knowing the scourge of existence was on its way. “You’d better forget it, I couldn’t get hard anyway. General Burkhalter just informed me that Hochstetter and his men are coming.”

Hogan stood up and brushed himself off, making a show of being burned by Klink's unwillingness. “Well! I might give some more thought to that offer tonight after all. I try to do something nice for you… Maybe my admirer will appreciate it more.”   
  
“Robert, please.” Klink tried to say frantically. Everything was happening too fast—Hogan was already walking out the door. Klink stomped his foot and growled before giving up and hurriedly wrapping up his paperwork.

If Hogan was the one he wanted to give everything to, then why was he afraid to do so? Easy, because he was afraid of scaring him away. Who was using who? If Klink frightened him off, then he would have no one. The last few months had been quite blissful, being able to count on having a willing body to participate in his dark fascinations. Perhaps it  _was_  time for them to take the next step after all. 

 

Now, to face the inevitable. Hogan would have to be addressed later.

 

* * *

  
  
Every man in the compound looked up to Hogan expectantly when he left the Kommandantur to return to his silent barracks. He still didn’t know what to tell them. He stood in the doorway after the rest of the barracks’ residents followed him in, and he looked right back at each of them, daring them to challenge him. When the pause grew too long and their blank looks turned to scowls, he sighed and offered a casual shrug. 

“Look, I didn’t get a chance to ask him.” Eyes rolled and murmurs and grumbles filled the room. They weren’t satisfied. “Yeah, well, if you guys like that one, get a load of this. While I was in there I found out that Hochstetter and his goons are gonna be here in an hour or less. They’re gonna tear this whole place apart, and you just _know_ they’re gonna be looking for our guy.”

“So what about the staff car?” Newkirk asked. “How are we going to get Barry out now?”

“I’m working on that,” Hogan said, knowing it was not the answer they wanted to hear.

“So what about our contact then?” LeBeau asked after another moment’s thought. “What will he do if Barry isn’t there to warn him about the contact in Dusseldorf?”

“I’m working on that too.” Hogan tried not to let their sighs and groans bother him. “In the meantime, you guys could stand to pick it up in here. After those desertions, they’re gonna be nitpicking Klink on anything and everything. I want this barracks in order, _now_.”

“Yeah well, if the krauts want it clean in here, well, they know how to pick up a broom.” Even Carter was smarting off as he moved to start tidying up.

“Someone fix the trap door too. It’s been springing open on its own again,” Hogan called out some more orders just for good measure as he shut himself in his quarters, too tired to scold them for talking back.

 

 Hogan fell to his bunk and held his head in his hands for a few long moments. He couldn’t believe how badly he’d blown it on every aspect of this latest mission. They were running out of time, and he was running out of creative ideas. He was exhausted—London never let them rest anymore. They were doing good work, but he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in over a month. He couldn’t concentrate on anything.

Now they had an agent who needed to leave Germany _yesterday_ bunkered down in their tunnels. The poor guy had to be going stir-crazy. It was likely that the visit from the Gestapo was in part to look for the spy, at least as much as it was to scare the rest of the Germans into submission. Klink had had deserters—as such, security was doubled and everyone was trigger-happy and tense.

Hogan needed a reprieve. Being with Klink the first time had been a mistake after all. He’d had a taste of escape and now he wanted more. He craved Klink’s unusual ways—he yearned for the blissful sting of leather on his skin again—but more so he wanted the feeling of freedom from the responsibilities of command. He wanted to be the center of Klink’s world so that the darkness couldn’t touch him.

But Klink had been too busy for him lately and rejected his advances. Klink! Spurning _him_! He couldn’t stand the shame of it, but more importantly it also put a dent in their plans. He’d figured he’d get Klink to drive him into town that night, maybe to see a movie. As far as his men knew, Klink would be driving by himself with their spy hiding in the undercarriage of the staff car, and Hogan would sneak into town to make sure everyone made it to their destination. Now the whole plan, and the prospect of a date, were all in the trash, and for _what_ —because Klink was too nervous to get a hard-on?

Hogan reached under his bunk to find his flask. To hide it for the search, he told himself, but he began to uncap it even though he hadn’t yet eaten that day. A knock at his door stopped him just before it met his lips and he tucked it into his jacket before opening the door.

 

“Can I come in, Colonel?” Kinch asked. His hands were jammed into his pockets and his head was low.

Hogan let him in and closed the door behind him. “Everything alright?”

“Well,” Kinch avoided his eyes, pausing for a moment and then dodging the question. “I have an idea that might help us get Barry out tonight.”

“Well, I’d love to hear it,” Hogan replied.

“We take out one of the guards who’s scheduled to cover the motor pool tonight, and we put Barry in his uniform…” Kinch began.

“Don’t touch the guards right now,” Hogan said, a little firmer than he needed to. “Klink’s record can’t handle any more deserters until this latest thing settles.”

“We don’t have to pull him for good. Nobody’s going to London but Barry.” Kinch produced a brown glass vial from one of his pockets. Capsules rattled inside.

Hogan inspected the bottle when Kinch handed it to him. He’d never seen the pills before, and nobody had told him anything about getting ahold of something like this.

“Where did you get these?”

“Oscar Schnitzer’s daughter. She knows a chemist. It’s just a sleep aid, Colonel. Klink isn’t gonna have any more deserters, but he might have some guys snoozing on the job.” Kinch smiled assuredly.

 

Hogan pondered the plan. It seemed a little messy, especially without a lot of details sorted out. Nonetheless, right now it was their only option.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Hogan offered, wondering how many other things he didn’t know about. “I’ll do it for sure if I can’t come up with anything less risky.”

“Sure,” Kinch said slowly. He looked for a moment like he meant to say something else but then he closed his mouth and only nodded.

“Thanks though,” Hogan added. He waited, and then spoke up when Kinch didn’t continue. “Was there anything else?”

Kinch at last met his eyes. There was something on his mind, no doubt about it. His gaze was heavy and piercing. He pondered something for a solid moment and then seemed to let it go.

“No, sir,” he said softly.

“Alright, well… Dismissed.” Hogan gave a half-hearted salute and wished desperately he could read Kinch’s mind. For instance, when had Kinch been talking to Schnitzer’s daughter? It seemed a little excessive to order him to spill the beans, so he tried to let it go as well. He’d bring it up again if it was important. “But you will talk to me if something comes up?”

“Ah, yes, Sir,” Kinch replied almost a little sheepishly as he stepped out. Hogan watched him go and peered at the rest of the men through the doorway. They were grumbling amongst themselves as they swept and took down pinups and postcards from home. The hut was already looking empty and somber, just the way the Gestapo liked it. He shut the door and sat on his bunk to start on his flask. In case it should be confiscated during the search, he told himself. But when he tipped his head back, the booze couldn’t stop him from imagining Klink’s hand cupping his jaw.

 

He should have known better than to get himself so deeply into something like this. He was in over his head—what was supposed to be an arrangement for some bargaining power had turned into an affair that was making him lose sleep. He made excuses to visit Klink’s office every day to try to goad him into a kiss. He disobeyed orders with the intention of pissing him off and earning himself a swat or two from the riding crop. When he couldn’t capture Klink’s attention, he turned to threatening him instead. He knew some of it went too far—he shouldn’t have said and done some of the things he did. Klink was right, he was sloppy and he was going to get someone in trouble. He couldn’t help himself, he manipulated Klink like it was a full time job. The worst part of all was that he couldn’t tell who between them enjoyed it more.

 

* * *

 

  
  
Within two hours Stalag 13 was well on its way to being turned completely upside-down. No reasons were offered to Klink, who stood by completely helpless while his camp was torn apart. The nature of the Gestapo's visit was a juxtaposition between creating loyalty through fear, and simply to remind Klink of how powerless he truly was. The high command had certainly achieved what they had set out to do, and that was to piss off two hundred weary prisoners who were growing tired of the increased visits from the Gestapo. Their searches were growing more disastrous. Barracks 2 had been ripped apart entirely but Klink could only be relieved that nothing incriminating had been found apart from one pack of German cigarettes in Hogan’s quarters. Klink worried the finish off of his crop by the time Hochstetter called his men off of the barracks when their search proved fruitless.  
  
“Now turn your attention to the guards!” Hochstetter shouted to the men who were currently shredding apart mattress pads looking for contraband, throwing about feathers and stuffing like snow. “Finish off the entire block— leave nothing untouched.  _Klink_ , Dorfman and Bunke will escort you to your quarters immediately.”  
  
“Certainly you must be mistaken, I haven't—,”  
  
“You are under inspection as well. No one is exempt, not even you. This is protocol when deserters have been reported.” Hochstetter grinned wickedly. It seemed no one would be safe from the sweep this time. Resistance in any way would prove to be futile.  
  
“Deserters?” Klink tried to play dumb. He tried to pretend that two of his men hadn't fled the block at the first sight of open sky being clouded with missiles. The attack hadn't hit anywhere near the stalag but it had been enough. Two new guards had fled overnight out of fear for their lives. Stupid fools, now they were marked men and they would be shot on sight. They were better off suffering silently with the rest of the prisoners where they were safe.  
  
“Don’t be stupid, you nitwit. You may be able to play the fool with High Command, but not with me. Do not press me on the matter. Your quarters are to be searched! If you give me too much trouble you can bet I'll make a mark on my report about it! Perhaps you'll be able to find your deserters on the Russian Front when I make a personal recommendation for you to join them.”

Klink was already drowning in paranoia. His heart raced and his temples perspired underneath his hat as Hochstetter did a perfect job of terrifying him.   
  
“Yes, Major.” Klink was dying on the inside as he quietly submitted to the man. His quarters were to be torn apart by men younger than his military career was long – how insulting! They couldn't have been much older than nineteen judging by how clean cut and eager they were.  
Klink clenched his teeth as Schultz readied the car and took them across the grounds to the private area. Nothing was safe anymore, not even for the poor fools who’d tried to secure their safety by swearing allegiance to the Fuhrer. 

  
  
Dorfman and Bunke began their search at once. Cabinets were pulled open and rifled through with no care. Klink watched his personal garments be handled by the same pairs of leather gloves that had likely meddled in unspeakable affairs. Drawers were overturned and dumped, pawed through, the contents scrutinized as the two young SS men muttered over the details quietly. No doubt they knew his story, no doubt they knew how hard Klink had struggled to stay afloat in his career. His heart raced as they rudely assessed his belongings before tossing them aside to move to the next thing. It was hard to stay quiet but he had no choice. The blood that was rushing through his ears was deafening. He gripped the crop under his arm so hard it nearly cracked under the tension.  
  
Dorfman split up from his partner while Bunke began to inspect for loose floorboards— thankfully Klink had never thought to try to keep such an elaborate hiding spot. His organized closet was in ruins by the time he was done, every boot and shoe shaken and dumped uncaringly to the side. Dorfman's disappointment in not being able to turn up anything incriminating escalated into wrongful behavior which Hochstetter stood by and allowed. Klink’s entire wardrobe was torn from the hangers and patted down, only to be left abandoned in piles as Bunke called him over to turn the bed. 

“So many fancy clothes! Have you forgotten there is a war on, Herr Kommandant? Or are you too old fashioned to make sacrifices for the Fatherland?” Hochstetter tutted at the nice things laying on the floor.   
  
“Major—,” Klink wanted to protest, his face was going numb as anxiety threatened to swallow him whole. His eyes glittered in silent rage and fear. The man held his hand up and silenced Klink like a child. He realized at once that he had no control—over the situation, over his entire life.

“Do not interrupt them. Interference would suggest you are hiding something. Are you?” Hochstetter asked suspiciously.

Klink shook his head. “No, no I wouldn't, I just don't think—…”  
  
“Well! Looks like I lost that bet.” Dorfman announced as he held up a scandalous grab of magazines Klink had stored away. He opened the pages to leer at all the naked women and turned it around for Bunke to snicker at. “And here I was really thinking he didn’t fancy the fairer sex.”  
  
“I am  _right here_. This is an outrage! Major, what is this _truly_ about?” Klink was frustrated, embarrassed, and insulted that the Gestapo had nothing better to do than to come in and turn his world upside down. “I have a prison camp to run, and I have a right to know why I’m being treated this way.”  
  
“Klink!” Burkhalter had materialized at the door, clearly not interested in his discomfort nor interested in respecting him beyond the fact that he was just another poor fool who needed to be bossed around. “You heard what he said, you know why they are here. It’s this or an internal investigation at Headquarters. Let them finish their job in silence or I will let the boys in Berlin finish _you_.” He offered Klink a warning glance.

 

Klink felt faint. He fell back quietly and watched as his bathroom was turned over as well. What did they expect to find there—the last shreds of his dignity? He'd caught enough heat for the amount of accessories he chose to keep and it earned him a few more underhanded comments that he was better off not hearing.

He wasn't sure when they finally left, but when they did he chose not to follow them out. Instead, he grabbed Schultz at the door and pulled him inside as the Gestapo moved off with Burkhalter to finish their report.

  
  
“I want him arrested.” Klink said wildly, clearly lost somewhere between the time he was in now, and of someplace he had been long ago. Schultz's jolly expression shifted into one of concern.

“Kommandant? Are you alright? You do not look so well.”  
  
“I want Hogan arrested and thrown into the Cooler. Do it now Schultz. Do it before he does something he’s going to regret.” He huffed impatiently. Nausea crept up inside of him, he truly felt like he would be sick. The shock of what he’d experienced this day at last settled on him and it was too much. Klink stuffed his face with his handkerchief and wheeled off to the bathroom.

Schultz had the foresight to remain in the doorframe, hesitating to step inside of Klink's quarters. The cupboards had been left opened, cushions overturned on the divan. Schultz could hear his commanding officer being ill behind the bathroom door and felt true sadness. He disobeyed the kommandant's orders to fetch Hogan and instead poured a glass of water and waited the time that it took for Klink to peek his head out again. Whatever he had gone through in that time spent hiding away, Schultz was sure it had been hard on him. He looked like an older man now than he had been only that morning. 

“Herr Kommandant, I cannot arrest Hogan, not without reasonable cause. The Geneva Convention Sir, I am sorry, Sir.”  
  
Klink said nothing to Schultz’s stalling. He took the water and sulked quietly in the wingtip chair by the wood stove. He looked as cold as he felt. His face was practically gray from being so uneasy.

“I don't want him getting into trouble. He made a threat to me this morning that will surely add to the problems in this camp should he decide to act on it. _That_ is your reasonable cause, you fool.”

It was unlike Klink to willingly accept his sergeant's disobedience in favor of his company, especially once Schultz removed his helmet and scratched at the snowy white hair on top of his head. He was skeptical if only because he was worried about the trouble his insubordination might cause, but he liked to think that Klink took special interest in his loyal services. Too many times had Schultz looked the other way when Klink did something questionable. Too many times had he personally benefited from Klink's strange ways of forgiveness.

He only wanted to help if he could.   
  
“Herr kommandant, permission to speak freely?” Schultz looked to the floor and humbled himself. Klink let the silence linger between them until Schultz felt a chill down the back of his neck. Maybe he was making a mistake in asking but there were questions brewing in his head— mostly centered on the precarious arrangement Klink seemed to maintain with Hogan. They were often together and always very late. The sergeant just wanted to know whether anyone was in all those meetings together against his wishes. He knew his commanding officer did not have a particularly strong will and he worried about him constantly for this reason, especially if Hogan was making threats that compromised Klink’s safety.  
  
“Very well. What is it?” Klink wouldn't look at him. He couldn't. Staring into the fiery belly of the open stove saved him from full tilt panic. He whittled his fingers nervously against his chin as he continued to ruminate his impending doom.   
  
“Wilhelm,” Schultz spoke to him more as a friend now, “I've known you for so long, I feel like I should know you better. What is this arrangement with Colonel Hogan that you have? You have my word, I will not tell a soul— but please. I am worried for you. I wish to help you. Is he blackmailing you? Is he—?”  
  
“No.” Klink cut him off sharply. Schultz was somewhat relieved to be interrupted. What he had to say next would have been awfully embarrassing for both of them.

 

Klink knew he could trust Schultz. In this moment of desperation to calm down, perhaps trusting someone like Schultz wouldn't be so awful after all. If anything it could improve the precarious relationship he was still insisting on keeping with the American. He liked him. He cared for him. He still wanted him more than he’d ever planned to. With some degree of difficulty, Klink finally wilted under Schultz's gentle, worried gaze.   
  
“I’m afraid I’ve given in to my own weaknesses. He is my lover.” He admitted. “I need him more than I ever thought I would. I should have known better. Ah, what a fool I’ve been…”  
  
The sergeant felt the air leave the room on its own. Quietly he exhaled and nodded— not quite the secret he was expecting, but now that he knew he understood so much more about his commanding officer. Schultz was a family man and he’d been around long enough not to be shocked to learn such a secret about Klink. Indeed, it was only a different but equal set of problems to worry about.

“And Colonel Hogan… He is a very tricky man, always up to trouble. Does he treat you well? Ah, forgive me it is not my place to ask.” Schultz gave up trying to find the words but to his credit Klink had yet to throw him out for being so nosy. Instead, he seemed to honestly think about the question for himself more than for Schultz.   
  
“I think he likes me. I hope he does. No one else ever will.” Klink despaired as he returned to gazing into the fire. He could have cried when he remembered the way Hogan had spoken to him earlier that morning. He’d never paused to consider whether Hogan actually liked him, and a moment later he wished he never had. That is when he ordered Schultz to leave and to not be seen back in his presence until Hogan had been arrested. He insisted on it. This time Schultz saluted him with a sad look, but obeyed and left to find Hogan and arrest him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:  
> Hogan busts into Klink’s office, being assertive and demanding sex. He threatens to see another man in camp and then touches Klink without his consent while he’s on a phone call. Spurned by Klink, Hogan returns to his barracks to salvage the plan he’d anticipated using Klink on. Kinch suggests a plan but Hogan rejects it, noticing that Kinch seems edgy. Later, the Gestapo raid the camp and force Klink to watch while they trash his quarters. Klink decides to arrest Hogan to stop him from sleeping with one of his men. Schultz confronts Klink about his relationship with Hogan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for detailed summary concerning this work's tags and content warnings.  
>  **This chapter contains explicit sexual content including explicit fanart embedded at the end of the chapter!!**

Hogan stewed alone in his cell for hours before Klink finally came to see him. He was furious. It was like Klink somehow knew that they were right down to the wire on their mission. There was nothing else he could do—the men would go ahead with Kinch’s plan, and he would just _sit_ until whenever Klink decided to let him out.

He wondered if it had anything to do with what he’d said to Klink that morning. It had been a complete lie, the jab about going to see a guy in Barracks 8. Incidentally there _had_ been a guy in Barracks 12 who’d said something to him, and Hogan was so wound up he’d actually given it some consideration. Klink’s warnings about getting caught didn’t scare him as much as they should have though. They’d been meeting for sex for over a month and nobody seemed to suspect anything. He was feeling reckless and the fantasy of trying something new was more interesting than waiting for Klink to come around again, if he ever would.

It was stupid, and he knew better. He knew as well as Klink should have that he could never do it. It wouldn’t stop him from bluffing, though. If he was made to feel like he wasn’t anything special, then Klink should have to sweat a little bit, too.

 

Hours passed before anyone in camp saw hide nor hair of their kommandant. His quarters had been left untouched while he continued to sit in his chair long after Schultz had been sent away. He wondered about what he'd do with Hogan now that he had responded to the colonel's threat. Would he have truly taken all of the experience Klink had given him and found someone better? Someone else who was not him? Klink couldn't blame Hogan if he did, but he also couldn’t forgive him.

That said, he'd continue with his plans for Hogan. If Hogan wanted more from Klink he would give it to him. He would give him anything if it meant that the man would want to continue seeing him. It was dangerous and foolish, both of them knew this well, but it seemed Hogan was ready now more than ever. Judging by his desperation to find another suitable partner, Klink decided that Hogan must be ready for the next challenge that would be thrown his way. 

It was after the last roll call by the time Klink approached the cooler. Somehow he managed to pull himself together and pack a small bag of things he would give to the colonel. His expression was grim as he opened the door to his cell. All of the guards were called off so that the kommandant could visit him privately. Schultz seemed more protective over his privacy now more than ever, and he reluctantly agreed to personally stand watch. For that, Klink was truly grateful. He owed Schultz more than he could ever repay.

  
  
“Hogan.” He called through the door, hoping to hear the man's voice on the other side of it. He was almost too afraid to meet him on the other side, to face whatever anger or disappointment Hogan had in him. He was too weak to use the crop to even tap the door. His resolve was crumbling by the second.   
  
“My dear, if you are angry with me I am sorry. I've brought you some things. May I come in?” He waited until the man agreed to let him in and even then he approached with caution. The cell was chilly and becoming quite dark as the sun was setting. Klink slid the bag off of his shoulder and pulled his coat off before throwing it onto the bed Hogan would be sleeping on for the next three days. He had changed his usual uniform coat for a thicker one that he would conveniently forget to take back out with him. In the pockets he had stuffed cigars and matches, and a flask of whiskey. All things he had placed with intention. 

Hogan stood by quietly and eyed the things Klink had brought him. He tried to read Klink and figure out his angle but he was oddly distant. Hogan had never struggled like this to think a step ahead of him.

“What’s this all about? Why won’t you just tell me?” He asked at last, his curiosity getting the best of his frustration.

“I want you, Hogan. And one day, I may even let you have me too.” Klink grinned. His lips curled back wildly. He seemed unusually imposing. “Stay in here for three days. Do as I say and I will give you what you’ve been wanting. You'll understand why you are here soon enough.” Klink said before looking him over. There wasn't an easy way to explain everything— he hoped Hogan would figure it out. For dignity's sake, he tried to spare Hogan's pride by being as vague but informative as possible.

“That’s it?” Hogan spat back.

“That's it.” Klink repeated icily. 

Hogan’s stomach gurgled reminding him how foolish he’d been to skip breakfast. It had been hours since he’d eaten anything. Something was off with Klink and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He didn’t like not knowing what Klink was thinking.

“Look… I’m sorry.” He gave in and tried to fix his mistake. “I didn’t mean it when I said I was going to see someone else. I just wanted to make you jealous. You know that, don’t you, baby?”

 

The pale glow of the yard lights shining in through the small windows cast them both in eerie blue light. The shadows cut away the softest parts of Klink's normally gentle expression. It did not help when he snarled silently at Hogan's bullshit.  
  
It did not matter now that Hogan finally explained his actions. His excuse was still just an excuse. It was hard to find the American sincere after admitting that he had lied.

“Don't think I am not aware of all that you do to me.” Klink seethed, a hand snatching him by the collar as quick as a viper. He had such strength for looking so weak all the time—it was easy to pull Hogan frightfully close so he might feel Klink’s teeth grazing against his lips as he spoke. His words were not kind— if Hogan found him cruel then Klink felt justified doing it to the bastard who just couldn't seem to get it right.   
  
“Is it just another ruse to you, Hogan?” His voice lifted with strength; it grew thinner, became sharper, and more and more pointed by the syllable. Klink thrusted him away from him. “Do you think that making me feel this way is funny? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have to tell an officer of my _own rank_ how to behave like an adult? Are you trying to get me killed before the end of the war? Because you are very close to making it happen. Not that it would matter to you— at the end of the day I’m just another ‘Nasty’ standing in your way.”

A bluff, that last part, but it had been spoken with enough intention it may as well have been true by how angry Klink seemed to be over it.   
  
“ _Baby_?” Klink wanted to spit on the floor after repeating the awkward American pet name. He made a face as if he could have done so right there in front of Hogan. It was not hard to drive the man backwards because Hogan looked so vulnerable now— vulnerable the way Klink was in his office, completely helpless in the sights of a predator. “Don't patronize me like a woman unless you’re serious. Your friend in Barracks 8 may let you call him that, but with me I’m afraid you’ll have to _earn_ such a precious title.”  
  
His kommandant looked sinister as he grinned again at him, his gloved hand coming up to finally throw him into the wall, his crop readied to strike him if he felt it necessary. 

 

Here was a different side of Klink. Hogan had had a peek at it before but never so intimately. He eyed the crop clutched in Klink’s hand, raised on the offensive, pointed outward like he intended to swing at any moment. Hogan wasn’t afraid of being struck, in fact the prospect excited him; he was silenced instead by the cold, hard, faraway look in Klink’s eyes. He gazed at Klink as he was backed into the wall, squirming under his touch if only because of the tension between them.

This was no longer a game. Hogan was sure of it. It was as real and as dead serious as every other part of their lives. Klink reeled back and the crop met with the front of Hogan’s thigh. He jolted upright, pressing tight against Klink’s body, although the kommandant hardly responded to the contact.

 

  
“Tables are turned now, aren't they?” Klink forced Hogan's legs apart with his thigh wedged hard between them.  The kommandant leaned into him heavily and forced his lips onto Hogan's for a biting kiss, one that lasted until he was winded. It made him taste blood when he pulled back, his tongue sliding over his own lips as a gloved hand wiped the corners of his own wet mouth. “Since you can’t seem to figure it out, I will explain my intentions to you… I can't have you eating that cockroach's food every night. Knowing how weak-willed you are I can already tell that you don't have the discipline to do it without supervision.” The crop punctuated it when Klink hit the man's thigh a second time.  
  
“I'll have to teach it to you, discipline. You will be hungry for three days. If you can't handle it you are free to go at any time. The guard at the door has orders to release you upon your request.”  
  
“You’re not gonna let me _eat_ while I’m in here?” Hogan’s eyes widened before he could stop himself. His stomach ached with a pang of hunger. “This is cruel and unusual punishment. It’s against the Geneva convention to starve a prisoner for threatening his boyfriend.” His protest was weak so he offered a grin and term of endearment he hoped would soften the scowl Klink gave him.

“If you are serious, and you want me, then I ask for three days of your time. No tricks, Colonel Hogan.” Klink reiterated firmly. He let go of Hogan’s collar and backed away just so slightly as to let Hogan crumple against the wall. Hogan sighed and pulled himself to his feet when he was released. He somewhat unconsciously rubbed at the sore spot on his leg.

“Why? I want you, only you.” He begged in every way he could, giving Klink the most pitiful look he could muster. He felt as convincing as a teenager putting on a phony act for a shopkeeper who’d caught him stealing beer, and Klink looked at him with the same unimpressed smirk. He took a step forward and tentatively reached out to slip his fingers under Klink’s collar and around his tie. He slid in close to him, so close he breathed his words on his neck. “I don’t want any man to touch me but you. I promise.” He pressed a kiss to Klink’s jaw. “Please, Herr Oberst? Be good to me?”

“I want you clean when I fuck you.” Klink said sharply. “Three days. Perhaps that will be enough time for you to learn some self-discipline as well.”

A fiery blush spread over Hogan’s cheeks as the reality hit him. It all made sense now, too much sense—he understood why Klink had avoided a direct answer. Three days of hunger was intended to save him some dignity further down the line. He wasn’t sure he was ready to consider any other options. Nonetheless he wasn’t about to let Klink see how badly the subject embarrassed him.

 

“I guess I’d better save my strength, then,” Hogan sighed under Klink’s ear. He pulled his hands away from Klink’s tie and dropped them to the front of his pants. “But I _really_ wish I could show you before then how badly I’ve been wanting you…”

 

“Then prove it to me with your patience.” Klink would not be persuaded any other way. He would not be skittish and he would not be fair. Hogan knew when to say _stop_ if it ever became too much. So far Hogan had a resilience inside of him like a true warrior. He had endured some of Klink's roughest sessions without completely dissolving underneath his severe hand. No doubt it had impressed Klink, but that did not excuse Hogan's inappropriate behavior any other time. He would have to learn. He would spend three days thinking about the welts on his ass, his thighs, wherever else Klink might use the crop on him to think about why the man was so disappointed with him. Klink  _cared_ , surely Hogan knew that.  
  
“I'll know if you cheat too. Don’t think you can just keep manipulating me when you get fed up with this arrangement.” Just when it didn't seem possible for Klink to get any colder, his words came with an extra layer of ice on them. His hands were rough on Hogan as he turned him around to face the wall, his own hands sliding down Hogan's sides before slipping in to curl around his pocketed hips. Klink's fingers dug in as he gripped him hard by his hips and pulled him back against his own.

Klink was shockingly hard against Hogan's body. “You think I'm your _boyfriend_? How sentimental. While you are in here, you will only address me as Herr Oberst. Do you understand?” His breath was chilly against Hogan's ear as he held his head back against his mouth with a gloved hand wrapped around Hogan's throat. He could choke him to death if he desired to— the leather on the colonel's neck tightened just thinking about it. “I said  _do you understand_?” The hand on Hogan's hips had steadily worked on unbuckling and unbuttoning to get inside of his trousers. It did not surprise him to find Hogan hard. The man was a masochist for this kind of treatment. 

“Y-yes, Herr Oberst…” Hogan wheezed under his touch.  
  
Klink marveled out loud at the discovery of a hard cock straining in Hogan's briefs. He gave it a rough squeeze, the butt of his riding crop digging into Hogan's balls as he continued to hold it. “Hands on the wall. Don't let me see you lift them. You'll stand there until I tell you to move. Do you _understand_?” His kommandant demanded sharply once again. Slowly, Klink moved to pull his pants down entirely, his briefs too, so that the cold air would hit Hogan like a sack of bricks to the belly. 

 

This was what Hogan had been waiting for. As much as it excited him, it made his heart sink. He wouldn’t have guessed it would make him feel this way. He felt so stupid for making threats he hadn’t meant. He only wanted to please Klink, odd as it seemed. He’d earn himself that boyfriend title, he decided, or maybe something even more special. He wanted to be something to Klink. The deepest, sharpest facet of manipulation—to be cared about. He wanted Klink to want him and to want him only. He wanted Klink to answer to him and his desires.  
  
Both hands abandoned the colonel as Klink came to his side, hands linked behind his back as the riding crop tapped eagerly against his own shoulders. He inspected him the way he might a true prisoner, leaving his gloves on to handle him once again as leather-clad fingers curled around a hard dick.

“I'm impressed. It is quite cold, isn't it?” Klink wanted Hogan to think about how uncomfortable his body was, how chilly it might be in comparison to how hungry it was—urging him to keep an impressive arousal at the same time was just downright cruel. Klink  _insisted_  Hogan stay hard with all the gentle stroking and squeezing he administered.   
  
Hogan's hand lifted once off of the wall. He never expected Klink to catch him but the hard swat against his naked thighs had him jerking against his kommandant's warm body.

“You are so disobedient, Robert.” Klink said neutrally, the crop reprimanding him again with another distinct clap of leather on skin while his free hand continued to stroke him off at a leisurely pace. “You cannot come until I say you can.”

Hogan groaned as he was stroked by a smooth, gloved hand. He snapped his eyes shut—the sight of black leather pumping his cock was too much and he couldn’t hold back if he watched it. His knees shook beneath him and his fingers curled against their places on the wall.

“Herr Oberst—,” he hissed through his teeth. When he threw back his head it lolled about on Klink’s shoulder. His kommandant’s free arm came to wrap around his chest and hold him close while it made short work of his buttons. His voice was strained and gave way to a breathy gasp when a cool leather fingertip circled one of his nipples. His body writhed and Klink’s arm clamped tighter around him holding him firmly in place. He squirmed so hard his shoes skidded along the floor. Moisture welled in the corners of his eyes. The leather-bound hand tightened around his cock. Words failed him and he let out a whimper instead.

Chilly air billowed into his open shirt. His jacket draped uselessly around his body and his pants were around his ankles. To his credit his hands had not budged from the wall. His balls were tight and the ache blossomed all the way into his belly. White heat throbbed behind his eyes and blinded him.

“Please, Herr Oberst?” What variety of pitiful was Klink looking for? He’d have to learn what Klink wanted from him. “I’ll be good…” He slumped with disappointment in himself even as Klink continued to stroke him.  

 

One day Hogan would understand. It would not come from being told what it was that Klink wanted. It would come over time and it would come when he learned to recognize it. Discipline was in every man and woman, somewhere lost and not yet found. Most people lived well enough without it and would spend their last day alive never needing it. Some people couldn't live a day without rules, without  _discipline_ , and Klink had been one of those men. He still was. He had spent his entire existence following orders— with Hogan there was a break from the unassuming personality he generated. Here, where there was no judgment, he could help Hogan find his own peace and order.  
  
Tonight he wanted something simple, needed it, and would not rest until he got back what Hogan had taken from him earlier that day. He wanted to break Hogan down until he was begging for release. The more he lambasted the colonel's body with the riding crop, the harder Hogan got. Hogan whimpered, his body shaking as it sagged under the cusp of pleasure to which his kommandant refused to give him.   
  
“Not yet.” Klink's teeth sank into his shoulder and bit hard enough to leave a reminder for another day. He'd force him to remember, he would put his marks all over him. Hogan would have no choice but to think of him every time he felt it sting underneath his clothes. The kommandant whispered filthy things in German into Hogan’s ear and grabbed his balls to squeeze them between his gloved fingers. Hogan's pleasured groans had become Klink's most favorite things to hear and he hummed in pleasure as he gripped the throat of his cock and squeezed harder than he had before.

Hogan arched sensually against him, gasping hotly into the night, and Klink couldn't help but hold him tighter by his arousal. His other hand reached around Hogan's offered neck and circled his fingers around it, his own body rigid and tight with need against him as he constricted him with both hands. The ice in Klink’s voice had begun to thaw but his words were not without sharp edges.   
  
“Good boy.” Klink whispered against the back of his neck as he ran his lips over the strong muscles over his shoulders. “I want to feel you fuck my hand. I want to know how much you want me.” Arousal perfumed his kommandant's voice, his obscured cock as hard as Hogan's as he stroked him quite teasingly.   
  
"Show me how good I make you feel. I want to hear you thank me properly when you come, do you understand?" 

Hogan gladly obeyed. Klink held his chest tight but his hips rolled freely. He thrust into Klink's tight grip, panting open-mouthed. Surely he was a pitiful sight. Sick— it turned him on to consider what he must have looked like right now. As long as Klink liked it too...   
  
Klink's cock pressed against him from behind. Hogan could feel it through his uniform. Speech was lost but he didn't need it anyway. Right now all he wanted was to be the center of Klink's world. He loved the attention. He fucked the leather glove harder now, and opened his eyes at last to watch himself lose it. His lips curled back into an aching sneer, he cried out and came onto the wall and into Klink's gloved hand. Humiliated bliss swept over him. He hadn't made such a mess out of himself since he was a young man.   
  
“Thank you, Herr Oberst...” He hardly heard his own voice as he wilted against the wall. The tight embrace that had been holding him back now supported his tired weight. His hands slid down from where they were firmly mounted and fluttered to his body. He caught Klink's wrists and held on tight.   
  
Klink urged him to the cot and plunked him down on it carefully. Hogan caught the waistband of his boxers and tugged at them half-heartedly before abandoning his modesty. As if he cared— Klink's scrutinizing gaze on his body was exactly what he wanted now anyway. He felt both filthy and beautiful. 

  
  
“Was that okay?” The flush on his face now was from realizing how badly he wanted to hear Klink's approval. Something along the lines of meekness settled heavily on him. Desperation. Doubt. It was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable sensation. “Did you like it?”

So suddenly the mood shifted but not without Klink anticipating it. What sweet relief it must have been for Hogan judging by how he crumpled against his kommandant's awaiting embrace. Klink's terrible resolve had diminished entirely with Hogan having been so obedient. It pleased him, it soothed him. At times like this, Klink also doubted himself. He wondered whether he was a monster for enjoying himself so much at the expense of someone else's comfort. What was it that broke inside of a man to crave total submission from his lovers like this? What was it that Klink was searching for in all of this firm-handed affection for Hogan? Better yet, what was it that Hogan saw in all of it besides release?   
  
“That's a good boy, Robert. I did enjoy it, very much.” _Too_  much. An ice-cold bath later and perhaps reading a chapter or two out of his military-issued copy of _Mein Kampf_  ought to bring him out of it in no time. Hogan leaned against him on the cot and Klink wrapped his arms around him. His heart fluttered wildly, his stomach did back flips. Klink's favorite part of every session was getting to hold him afterwards and to kiss him. He trusted that it was Hogan's as well, as the colonel did not move away when Klink leaned forward to kiss him. Klink hummed delightedly against his lips as he ran his tongue over Hogan's soft mouth, his hand curling around his shoulders to pull him in as closely as he could.   
  
The tone of Klink's voice shifted into something gentler now that he didn't have any need for crops or harsh words

“I only want you too, by the way.” His own needs were forgotten as he tried to fulfill as many of Hogan's as he could in this moment. Klink pulled his dirtied gloves off and touched Hogan's cheek softly to turn his face towards him. They both looked so tired, so world-weary, all Klink could do was rest his palm against Hogan's jaw and curl his fingers into his graying dark hair. “I couldn't have asked you for more. You give me so much, even when I don't deserve it.” Klink leaned in to kiss him softly while his other hand grabbed the heavy coat he had thrown onto the bed earlier. With some tenderness he moved to pull it over Hogan's shoulders to keep the chill off of his shoulders while they cuddled together.   
  
“Three days isn't too long, my dear. I've brought everything I could think of to make this easier for you. I don't intend to _torture_ you, I only want to spare you some discomfort down the road.” The night was stacking up to be a sleep-over. Klink should have realized his own weaknesses. Now that he had guaranteed privacy with Hogan, he debated ever leaving his side.

The bone broth was warm in the thermos he produced from the rucksack he’d carried. He’d brought a healthy amount of it to flood Hogan's growling belly and hopefully appease it for some time. He offered it with a rather grim expression, unsure if it would be enough to coax Hogan into staying. He prayed that he would.

 

“Three days should be enough time for me to get my quarters put together again. The Gestapo spared nothing this time. I half expected them to start cutting apart _my_ bedding this time as well as all of yours. Do they have any idea how much it costs to repair two-hundred mattress pads? They’ll probably threaten to shoot me for spending so much.” There was a chill in his words, his grip on Hogan grew tighter just thinking about it all again. Thankfully Hogan's presence was oddly calming in a situation like this. Klink felt the energy returning to him that he would need to clean up the disaster he’d been left with.  
  
And then, to try to cement Hogan's choice to stick out the 72-hour fast, Klink tried to remind him of his vested interest in the man.   
  
“I'll spoil you. You know that, right?” And with that, he handed over the heavy thermos and a bundle of Hogan's favorite cigars that he liked to steal off of Klink’s desk. He offered a beautifully designed metal lighter from his own pocket with a genuine grin. “Keep it safe. I'll be looking to get that back from you when the war is over.” Somehow the words were sadder than they intended to come across— mostly because Klink had already submitted to the idea that Hogan would be farther away from him by that time than he had been the first day they met. 

Hogan grimly took the items that were offered. Klink had brought him so much and beyond that, he’d brought his affection. Hogan leaned into his parting touches and kisses, too dizzied to put up much of an argument. When Klink was gone he found the energy at least to pull on his clothes before he fell asleep on the hard cot. He slept turbulently, as if his subconscious mind knew what lay ahead of him.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/137712808@N07/37204078264/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:  
> Klink comes to visit Hogan in the Cooler and brings him some goodies. He confronts Hogan about threatening to sleep around and tells him he knows he’s being manipulated. Then he explains that he wants Hogan to fast in preparation for anal when they have their next session. As an appetizer he whips Hogan with his riding crop and jerks him off with his gloves on. Afterward he confesses some of his experience with the Gestapo before leaving Hogan with his goodies to begin his fast.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for detailed summary concerning this work's tags and content warnings.

When he awoke a few hours later, Hogan sat on the cot and leaned back against the hard cement wall. His toe tapped the seconds away on the floor. Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours. He stared at the hands on his watch for entertainment until so much time passed that he'd forgotten what he was doing and how long he'd been doing it.   
  
He should've relaxed but his feet seemed intent on tapping and swinging under his cot, so he stood up and occupied his restless body by counting off the seconds in jumping jacks. After the first hundred he took off his jacket. One hundred later he took off his shirt. His dog tags jingled against his chest, and then against the floor as he dropped and switched to doing pushups. When he at last collapsed back onto the cot he was drenched with sweat.   
  
Exhausted, he laid down and tried to sleep again to help pass the time, but his mind would not comply and let him rest. He held imaginary conversations in his head— stories he'd tell his men if they'd ask about where he'd been, things he'd like to tell Klink about himself the next time they were together. A line from a song repeated in his thoughts that eventually distracted him from the conversations. In boredom he searched through the pockets of Klink's coat, laughing aloud to find a flask and a handful of cigars.   
  
He told himself to remember to thank Klink for it later as he pulled out the second flask he'd managed to sneak in with him, and toasted himself before lighting a cigar. Then he promptly proceeded to getting thoroughly fucked up. Drinking while fasting was probably a terrible idea, but what else could he do? Three days was too long a time to be alone with his thoughts and his hunger pains.   
  
He soon lost track of the passing minutes. A quarter of the way through the cigar he realized that he was going numb around the mouth. His head felt swollen and stupid— he threw back another gulp from Klink's flask and reveled in the sickening feeling sinking into him.   
  
There was a point of being so low that it felt exhilarating and good. Here was a fine American officer, a leader of men; the same man now wallowed, drunk, waiting for some type of sexual degradation at the hands of his closest personal enemy. He was wasted enough now to admit to himself that he  _loved_  it. If it meant he was a pervert— he could accept that. 

  
  
After some time he felt pulled into the cot like by the familiar inertia of flight. The room was certainly moving as fast as an airplane. He gripped the edges of the cot until his knuckles turned white. His heart felt like an unending drum roll. It was such an overwhelming feeling. He couldn’t deny the urge to _move_.

His body trembled and writhed and after a while he realized that he was actually screaming aloud just for the sheer joy of screaming.   
  
He felt seized, perhaps the way a car felt when one was turning donuts in a parking lot. He hemorrhaged energy with each cold drop of sweat, completely exhausting himself when he should have been resting.   
  
But he couldn't stop. It felt so good to freak out, to panic alone like an animal in a cage. He dug his nails into his clammy, bare shoulders and chased the shadows in the corners of the cell until his mind was spinning in circles. 

Hogan buried his face in the lamb’s wool collar. Bad memories were sitting over him like crows on a power line. He’d spent plenty of time in solitary confinement before, but somehow this visit was different. It had never been so hard on him. It couldn’t be just the long hours without food making him feel like this, although it certainly didn’t help.

 

His thoughts drifted to an afternoon in Klink’s office. Klink stood over him and he clutched the crop, but it wasn’t swinging at him, it was tucked carefully under his arm. Instead, his monocle was out and being gesticulated with. Somehow it was a more intimidating prop than the whip. Klink was fuming. Hogan couldn’t even remember what he’d done that time to incite it.

 

 _“Colonel Hogan, you have disappointed me yet again. You asked me to trust you and so I did. In turn you may very well be costing me my career. Perhaps my life.”_ There was dead serious fire behind those penetrating blue eyes. It was blindingly real and it looked right through him. He opened his mouth to start lying and it was practically closed for him.

 _“Don’t you say a word, Hogan. I’m not finished talking to you.”_ Klink cut him off sharply. Here was a third side to him, just as real as the fool running the camp, and the dominant lover Hogan had met in his bedroom. This side was a military hardass without all the kisses and blowjobs. A man who commanded others, even sometimes to their deaths. It was impossible to manipulate one who was without mercy.

 _“I didn’t know it would happen, that’s the honest truth.”_ It was, and it still didn’t work. The furious sneer did not budge from Klink’s face.

 _“I wish that was enough, Hogan,”_ Klink had said then, the disappointment heavy in his voice. _“I can forgive you. My career cannot.”_

 

He couldn’t get his mind off of Klink. Good or bad, but mostly bad—he remembered a dozen separate incidents of Klink staring back at him with a livid or pained expression. How many times had he hurt Klink? How many times had Klink forgiven him? Was he even forgiven? Was it why Klink enjoyed whipping him?

The thought was more daunting than anything else. He’d so easily believed that Klink wanted his affection, but the strange thoughts rolling over him made him feel like he was just another fuck. Klink was a lifelong bachelor because his sex was so unconventional. Hogan was only part of the equation because he liked the pain. He couldn’t make himself believe that Klink could like him for any other reason than that. How could he when Hogan walked all over him and hardly even respected him half the time?

“I respect you,” Hogan whispered aloud, lips pressed against the wool collar. He knew he wasn’t possibly hungry enough yet to be this delirious. He didn’t _really_ believe Klink or anyone else was standing in that cell with him. Still, he spoke to the voices because both flasks were empty and he had nothing else to do. He was beginning to anticipate the tricks his mind liked to play on him, and he tried to play along for lack of a better option.

“I respect all of you,” he promised the illusions.

 

“So why can’t you be honest with us?” Someone asked. Kinch? Newkirk? The voice was indistinct, perhaps all of his inner circle speaking in unison? “Why don’t you tell us the truth?”

“You guys would go ape, that’s why.” He spoke without fear of them in this setting. It felt more like having a conversation with himself. “There’d be a mutiny if I told you. God, if I said I was blowing the kommandant, one of you animals would probably kill me.”

“Animals?” This voice was distinctly Klink now, so Hogan paid attention. “This is how you speak of those you command? When you look out that window, you see _animals_ and not men?” Klink gestured out the open window behind the desk in his office. Hogan followed the pointing hand and stared into the empty compound.

“There’s no one there,” he answered, trying to understand the challenge.

“I see,” Klink said. “When you speak of animals, perhaps you mean yourself?”

“That hurts, Sir.” A different voice— sharper, maybe Newkirk after all. “You see us as animals to command? You project all your worst qualities onto us, when all the time we’re the strongest part about you. You couldn’t have done any of this without us. We’re not the problem here. It’s not _us_ you can’t control.”

 

Hogan’s shoulders drooped. He had no words for them. He gave up. Gravity sat heavily on him and he felt himself pulled downward, somewhere deeper than he’d been before. Away from them. Away from Germany.

 

The steady creak of weathered wooden floorboards under his shoes soothed him when he landed. He pushed the swinging bench back and forth on his grandparents’ porch and tried to pay attention.

“You truly are a brave young man, Robert,” Klink nodded and rubbed his shoulder tenderly. “You’ve been so strong for your mother and you haven’t even cried once.”

Robert stared at his hands. His adolescence felt gangly and unattractive on him around a man like Klink, yet somehow more flattering than being a newly promoted colonel shyly kissing up to gray-haired generals.

“I _want_ to cry though. Why can’t I?” He asked. His voice cracked. When he glanced back up to meet Klink’s eyes he felt smaller, slighter. Klink’s smile and his hands were big, soothing, and warm. He radiated masculine virility like a six-point buck. Robert felt special having an adult pay such close attention to him.

“We’re all very proud of you,” Klink said, and Robert could have melted.

“I haven’t done anything though.” Robert leaned into the offered embrace, burying his face in the strong chest. He breathed deeply the smell of his cologne. Don’t worry about the rest of it, he told himself, losing himself to the bliss of the moment. The bench and the floor were dropping out beneath them, spiraling downward. Robert clutched tight onto the wool uniform.   
  
“What should I do?” Robert asked almost helplessly. “I just want to have fun, but there's always somebody who needs me. It’s so hard to follow their rules.”  
  
“Don't look, my dear,” Klink said. His voice was far away, but pleasantly calm and soothing. “That's all. Look at me only, don’t face it if you don’t have to.” 

  
  
Robert immediately disobeyed and opened his eyes. He saw his mother, tired and withered, scowling at him.   
  
“You should've never joined the Army,” she said. “What a mess. Would a year in juvenile hall have been so bad?”   
  
“I didn't start the war, you know,” he said back defensively. “I think you'll find it was the little Austrian painter.”   
  
“Smart aleck. You'll get yourself killed over there with that mouth,” she said. “You're a hotdog and you'll go and get yourself shot down trying to show off. If you don’t piss off one of those limeys and lose your commission first.”   
  
“Well, thanks for your blessing,” he said, refraining from reminding her _again_ that it had been a prestigious offer to fly with the Royal Air Force and that he was excited to command his own battalion. That this _hotdog_ had been working at the Pentagon when he’d received the offer. What did it matter to her? What did it matter at all?  
  
Klink's hand tightened on his shoulder.   
  
“Come, dear,” he urged.   
  
Robert glanced down at his mother where she sat in her bed. She glared right back. If she was afraid for his safety, she had a hell of a way of saying it. He should've listened to Klink. He shouldn't have let her get to him like this.   
  
“I have to go away,” he told Klink sadly. The shadows in the cell had changed directions and now he was the one being chased.   
  
“Stay,” Klink said invitingly. He patted the open spot beside him on his couch. He wore a warm and kind smile.   
  
“I'm in really big trouble,” he tried to explain. He yearned to stay with Klink but his mother's hand clutched his shoulder and tightened sharply. “I might go away for a long time. I've had so many misdemeanors already that they’re going to try me as an adult.”   
  
“Stay,” Klink urged. “You don’t have to run from it anymore.”  
  
“I can't.” Robert tried to make him understand. “I have to be good now or else I could get locked up for a long time. I have to be the _best_ at following the rules.”   
  
“My boy, you've been just fine.” Klink whispered into his ear. He hovered behind Robert's back. The hands that gripped his biceps from behind were big and boney with knobby white knuckles. Robert dared to peek over his shoulder. The face looking back at him was sallow and pale with wrinkled lips and shiny black eyes behind shriveled lids.   
  
“You will always be my prisoner.” It spoke without speaking, pulling him in deeper without touching him.   
  
Robert sank face-first into the darkness. 

  
  
A hand touched his chest. It was hot and light, and it lifted him as if to the surface of water.

 

He snapped his eyes open and jerked so violently on the cot that LeBeau flinched. Hogan’s gaze darted about the room—he was in solitary confinement in Stalag 13. He was an adult, a _colonel_. LeBeau knelt beside him holding a tray of food and looking a little confused.

His head throbbed with a familiar headache. When he shivered, the blanket he pulled tighter around himself had a soft lamb’s-wool collar. His eyes closed against the pounding in his head—so painfully sharp were his senses that the cologne on the collar of Klink’s coat was almost enough to make it seem like he was there. It was almost enough to make it seem like this feverish fantasy was really happening, not a nightmare born out of a sick and twisted mind.

It was _real_.

 

“Was I talking in my sleep?” Hogan asked aloud, more timidly than he meant to. He tried to casually tuck the coat around him in such a way that LeBeau might not be able to recognize the wool collar. He desperately hoped it wasn’t too late.

“If you were, I didn’t hear you. I only just came in through the tunnel,” LeBeau said. He shook his head. “Big-mouth Schultz told me that monster is starving you! Filthy bosch! Before you came to this camp, mon Colonel, I had a plan to break into Klink’s office and slit his throat!”

Hogan had heard enough. He groaned miserably when he tried to sit up. A hand flew up to clutch his temple. Nausea rolled over him. How many hours had it been now since he’d eaten?

He held out his hands for the tray and looked over the spread. The bowl held something creamy that smelled like garlic, with fresh bread and butter on the side. His stomach growled and his heart sank as he remembered why he was so hungry.

“I can’t eat any of this,” he sighed, handing back the tray.

“But why?” LeBeau looked like he could’ve singlehandedly stormed the Bastille, or at least the Kommandantur.

“Well, it’s—,” What was he supposed to tell LeBeau? All at once he realized how careless he’d been. Klink was right about that. He was making excuses for everything, lying to people he needed to trust him. “Klink has orders from the Gestapo. Just their usual games.” A convenient scapegoat, too easy to rely on. “If they find out he fed me, he’s off to the Russian Front.”

“What will they do, look inside your stomach? If the Gestapo is coming for you, we will stop them. We will punish them for making you go hungry.” LeBeau’s answer was a long way from what Hogan had hoped for.

 

“What about Barry? How did that go last night?” Hogan asked, ready to change the subject. The smell of the hot meal was making him more delusional than he’d been in his sickening, uncomfortable dreams.

LeBeau nodded slowly, somberly. Not a good sign.

“We received word from the contact. Barry is on his way to London now. But…” LeBeau winced. “Sergeant Bachmeier was killed. Well, as the bosch know it, he killed himself.”

“What the hell happened?” Hogan asked, the food all but forgotten. “When was _that_ part of the plan?”

LeBeau’s shoulders drooped. His head hung in sorrow.

“It was an accident. We did not know how many pills for the correct dose.” LeBeau said sadly, guiltily. “Kinch said we should leave them in his locker and make it look like he’d meant to take too many. Newkirk and I moved the body back to the bosch quarters. We put him in his bed.” He shivered and went as far as to cross himself.

Obviously something wasn’t right. Something about those damn pills made Hogan edgy.

“Good thing Kinch knew what to do.” Hogan said pointedly. He had no quarrel with LeBeau but he wouldn’t hesitate to squeeze the right answers out of him when he needed them.

“Oui, colonel. He saved us. When we realized what happened, he stayed awake all night to write a letter to the sergeant’s family, even copied his handwriting from a report on Klink’s desk. A beautiful letter, I cried when he read it to me.” LeBeau spoke insistently. “The bosch are convinced. Schultzie said Bachmeier was trouble anyway.”

Bingo.

“Trouble?” Hogan asked. “How do you mean?”

“Eh!” LeBeau shuddered in disgust. “A child of the New Order. He wanted to bring Hitler’s message to life here at camp. He harassed prisoners so much Schultz tried to report him to the kommandant.”

“Americans?” Hogan guessed.

“Schultz said it was Kinch, Baker, and Clayton who complained.” LeBeau nodded. “Yes, only Americans. The three black fliers.”

Hogan stewed on the information. Already his suspicions held new weight. He just couldn’t focus enough to think about it, between his growling stomach and his ongoing frustration with the secrecy among his men. Why did he always find things out after it was too late? This seemed like a bad solution to a problem he could’ve found a better answer to. If his men were being harassed, why wouldn’t they come to him first?

 

“Look… I’ll eat this later.” Hogan smiled and tried to be convincing about it. “It looks great but it might be a little rich on an empty stomach.”

LeBeau produced a string of French obscenities.

“Must I feed it to you myself?” He practically shouted. “What is this Gestapo order anyway? Why do they care so much to starve you? What is this abuse, mon Colonel?” He punctuated it with a genuinely concerned sigh.

“It’s because of the search the other day,” Hogan lied quickly. “You know how they are. No real reasons for any of it, they’re just trying to scare us. They think the desertions on their side are gonna inspire us to try another escape attempt.” He nodded and tried to seem stoic. “It’s only three days. I’d rather go hungry for a while than have you guys bear a greater punishment.”

“So? Klink doesn’t know I’m here. He doesn’t have to know you’ve had a meal.” LeBeau’s tenacity was amazing, and increasingly becoming annoying. If only he could tell him the truth—this lie was spiraling further and further out of control. He felt like he was still trapped in the confusing dream. He only wanted to be honest with LeBeau. He hated to lie to someone who was so concerned about his well-being. But he knew he couldn’t admit the truth. Even a Frenchman would be disgusted to know that Hogan _enjoyed_ the crazy things Klink put him through.

“I just feel like I should be honest about it.” He tried another weak answer, one that made him feel guilty to say. “Klink’s been good enough to us. I don’t need his ass on the line too.” A poor choice of words, perhaps.

LeBeau stared at him for a long, quiet moment. He looked completely baffled and Hogan wondered if it _had_ been a badly worded sentence. But the language difference didn’t seem to be the problem.

“God, forgive me if I’m wrong,” LeBeau sighed almost wearily. “Colonel, sometimes in a man, there is a sickness of the heart… I shared a flat with a friend once who would hurt himself on purpose.” LeBeau extended an arm and made a motion on it with his other hand. “With a straight razor, you know? He was not a well man, but every time I asked him what’s wrong, he said nothing.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hogan interrupted him sharply but managed to produce a smile and a hearty laugh. “What are you talking about? I know the kind of guy you mean, I was in basic training with a guy like that. Do you really think _I’m_ like that? Are you serious?”

LeBeau averted his gaze like he knew he’d overstepped a boundary.

“I’m sorry, Colonel. I pay it too much mind when a man won’t eat. That is the reason why I worry. I’ve seen a good, smart man destroy himself before. Please forgive me, Colonel.”

 

When LeBeau had at last been convinced, or at least shamed enough that he was subdued for the time being, Hogan managed to get him back through the trap door in the cell’s floor and was alone again for some time. He stared at the food for a long moment and then he swore aloud to himself as he tore through the bag Klink had left like a bear in a campsite. He sought out the thermos and wrung off the cap with all his might. The broth inside was still a few degrees warmer than the frigid air around him.

He pulled the coat tighter around himself. Instinct took control for some time. The trained soldier stared at his watch and calculated hours while he tried to consider how many calories he was burning trying to sustain such an elevated heartbeat.

He was shaking. His mouth was dry and sweat dampened his brow. He gulped the last of the broth and then heaved the empty thermos at the perpendicular wall as hard as he could. It ricocheted and clattered about the cell making an unsettling din. As soon as he did it he couldn’t have guessed why.

He couldn’t understand why he did _any_ of this.

 

Soon enough Schultz came by with a fresh, hot bowl of broth. The guard’s eyes were on the second tray in the cell the moment he entered—he must’ve had a specially honed sense for LeBeau’s cooking. He practically thrust the broth into Hogan’s grasp as he moved to inspect the forbidden food.

“Colonel Hogan! Please! How did you get this food in here? The kommandant will be very angry if he finds out you’ve eaten!”

“I haven’t touched it,” Hogan sadly admitted. “Tell Klink I’m playing along. But first you’d better help me destroy the evidence.”

Schultz gladly obliged and slurped up the garlicy sauce while Hogan sipped his broth. It wasn’t much but it was some relief against the hunger pains.

“I understand your side had a little casualty last night,” Hogan told Schultz brazenly. The guard stopped eating for a moment. Hogan continued. “Any idea what went wrong?”

Schultz shook his head but managed to continue eating after a moment.

“It was terrible, Colonel Hogan. Sergeant Bachmeier was such a young man, practically a child. He would have been a good soldier if I’d had more time to supervise him.” He sopped up the last of the sauce with the bread, shaking his head. “He died in his sleep, poor boy. Please God, let us all go so comfortably.”

Then he glanced around suspiciously as if there was anyone around to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“The letter said he loved serving our Fuhrer, but he was a homosexual and he hated himself inside.”

Hogan couldn’t say why the new detail suddenly made the numbness return to his face while his heart fluttered. At least it was certainly an interesting angle for Kinch to include in his letter.

Then Schultz looked over his empty bowl and the sadness seemed to really hit him. He even seemed to peek at Hogan’s broth for a short second to see if he had enough to share. Then he sighed and heaved himself to his feet.

 

“Will you tell Klink I want to see him?” Hogan asked as Schultz began to unlock the door. All of the information spun through his mind and began to weave a picture he wasn’t sure he liked. It had been a better morning before anyone had come in and he’d been alone with his disturbing dreams and fantasies of Klink. He craved that bliss again. He needed Klink now more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:  
> Very awkward chapter!  
> Hogan is anxious and restless while he passes the long hours in the Cooler. He smokes and drinks until he’s delusional and blacks out. He has an uncomfortable dream sequence revealing some possible insecurities with his command and career, his relationship with Klink, his sexuality, his mother, etc. He wakes up from the dream to find LeBeau has brought him a meal. Hogan struggles to lie about not eating and LeBeau explains that one of the guards was “accidentally” killed during their mission the previous night. Hogan suspects Kinch might be involved when he finds out that the guard was harassing black prisoners, but is nervous that nobody bothered to tell him about it. LeBeau also confronts Hogan with concern about him self-harming by not eating. Everything is uncomfortable and tense. Hogan demands to see Klink.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for detailed summary concerning this work's tags and content warnings.

Stalag 13 was eerily silent as Klink overlooked roll call to take care of a bigger problem. Another guard, gone. This time he was not gone the way Winters and Pacim were gone— he was _gone_. Dead. More bad news for the officer and more paperwork and interactions with people he utterly despised. The heat on the camp would be hellacious if he couldn't find a way to satisfy the questions that the Gestapo would ask. The kommandant frowned deeply as he signed off on the papers and looked over the pencil board to view the pale gray body that had failed to show up for duty only hours ago.   
  
“Herr Kommandant, the coroner is here. Gestapo too.” Schultz stood solemnly at the door to the guards’ quarters and awaited his next orders. Klink simply nodded before turning to leave the room with his hat in his hands.

Burkhalter couldn't have looked less gleeful at seeing his subordinate so soon again after having torn apart the entire Stalag just days ago. Klink saluted him stiffly, his half-hearted effort overlooked by the general who reciprocated with even less respect. Immediately he turned away from Klink to address the coroner with instructions per request of the family. Klink was distracted looking out the window, watching Hochstetter in plainclothes and his cloister of alley-cat SS men that looked too keen eyed and hungry for him to handle all at once.   
  
“How cruel it all is.” Klink could not help but mutter as Burkhalter staggered towards him in a lazy manner, his grin grew more and more wicked when he got close enough to see the tormented look on Klink's face. “Why should he be free so soon while the rest of us are left to suffer through it?”

“Indeed.” Burkhalter agreed with a lift of his heels. He truly enjoyed watching Klink slowly drown himself in apprehension. He had grown to enjoy it long ago in a distant lifetime when they’d been friends, even before he’d earned himself the authority to step on smaller men like Klink. What was crueler yet— Burkhalter knew Klink wasn't even capable of committing most of the charges constantly being thrown at him. He knew the man was too soft for the job, they all did. That is why things were the way they were. Sometimes Burkhalter didn't know if he hated Klink simply for having been spared the pains of a direct link to the psychotic dictator currently ruining every aspect of their lives. When Klink met his eyes he felt the fire in them and looked down at once.   
  
“Escort him to the office and interview him.” Burkhalter spoke to one of the SS men and handed over a list of questions he had arranged to have answered, his eyes burning holes into the hat Klink worried into wrinkles between his hands.

“Sir, with all due respect, don’t you think I’ve answered enough questions already this week?” Klink’s lip practically quivered.  
  
“Respect?” Burkhalter barked loudly. Klink's mouth snapped shut. He seemed to brace himself for the insult before it came. “Your men hate you so much that they take their own lives to get away from you. So shut up  _Klink_ , before you make me do it too, and leave you to answer to the Fuhrer by yourself!”

 

The “interview” lasted for three hours and it wore the polish off of Klink's smile within the first round of questions. They were the usual lot; details about how he ran the camp, inquiries about discrepancies in his books—at least the set of books that they knew about. They badgered him about his monthly spending until he could overwhelm them with enough pages of his perfectly-scribed digits.

The second round of questions were cross-examining the answers Klink had given now compared to the same questions they had asked two days ago. If anything was different they wanted to know why, how. Twice he thought it was all over when they caught him wording an answer differently than he had the first time he’d given it.

He began to sweat on the third round when they finally turned their attention to Bachmeier. They asked if Klink had taken notice of any odd behavior in the guard over the months between his transfer to Stalag 13, and his suicide. They wanted to know whether or not Bachmeier’d had contact with any external sources, any enemies, any disputes both inside the camp and outside. Did he have weapons? Had they been accounted for and collected? Had anyone handled his possessions after his body was discovered? What did he suffer from so badly that he had acquired an illegal sleeping medication for? Why hadn't Klink reported any suspicious behavior to his superiors? Why did he not file it away in case of a situation like this happening?   
  
By the end of it Klink couldn’t even feel his own lungs breathing in and out. He wasn't sure when they left his office or what it was that Burkhalter had said to him in passing once it was over. All he knew was when they left from the sound of the gates opening for their cars. It was the first time that he could exhale the breath he felt like he had been holding all morning long. Hours had been lost when he at last remembered to check the time. By then he had completed all of the paperwork necessary to satisfy a medical report about poor, disturbed Bachmeier.

Schultz had been in and out of the office, by now Klink was fully aware that it must have been a rough morning in the yard and did not care to think much more on it. He'd deal with it later like he always did. Right now he needed to see Hogan. It was all the clarity the kommandant could care to have— at least with the American he found more peace than anything else, they helped each other escape this nightmare. This Hell. 

  
  
Klink gasped aloud as he frantically tried to get the door to the cell open. He was as eager to get in as if invisible monsters were chasing him. When the door shut he imagined that nothing could get beyond it, for a moment Klink stood white-faced at the entrance before looking down at Hogan curled up on the cot. He looked far worse today than the day before. Klink struggled with the desire to call the whole thing off until he remembered his own rules. The kommandant crossed the room and sat down at the edge of his cot, a hand coming down to rest against Hogan's knees. His tormented expression seemed to soften when he saw the collar of his coat tucked up around Hogan's chest, the rest of it wrapped around him.   
  
“I'm late because of interrogations. They held me for hours Hogan, hours. One of my guards committed suicide last night and they are making it out like it’s my fault. My men are just  _dying_  to get out of Stalag 13. Am I that terrible? Is it really my fault that the young guards they send me are so afraid of this life? Anymore the men they send are practically boys.” It came out in an overwhelming rush of energy, the whole ordeal as terrifying as getting ambushed in the middle of the night. Somehow, so many years later, he continued to be blindsided by the goings-on inside his own camp.   
  
“No one tells me anything around here. I thought my men trusted me. Bachmeier was troubled but only as much as Schultz reported to me. I could have helped him if I knew what the men in the barracks were seeing.” Klink shook his head, he was disappointed in himself as well as all the other guards who knew the sergeant personally. “Hogan, in his suicide letter he confessed to being homosexual. Surely I should have noticed that about one of my own men.”

“Tragic.” Hogan spoke flatly and said nothing else. He met his gaze with glassy eyes that almost seemed to look through him.

 

“How... how _are_ you?” Klink tried to slow down when he realized Hogan was moving at a different pace than usual. The fasting did not suit him well but it was entirely necessary. How long it took, well, it was always a  _guess_  that three days would be enough.

 

Hogan could hardly summon the energy to lift his head and meet Klink's eyes. He was grateful to see him but disappointed to hear his side of the latest ordeal. Hogan couldn't begin to think about how to address the issue with his men. None of this would have happened if not for his own carelessness. Now something was wrong and it was getting people killed. He had a feeling that this was only the tip of a big, ugly iceberg. It didn't help that this latest endeavor with Klink was making his men worry about him hurting himself.   
  
“Sorry to hear about your guard,” Hogan offered a mediocre response to Klink's dilemma. “Nobody tells me anything anymore either. Bachmeier, you said? I found out recently that he was harassing some of my men.  _American_  soldiers. And did anyone think to come to me  _once_  about any of it? What's the Army even paying me for?” Hogan shifted in the cot and moved to sit upright so that Klink could sit beside him. “They talk to you and Schultz more than they talk to me. Hey, maybe we should swap commissions. Wanna try being a POW for a while?” His smile was half-heartedly reciprocated. Klink was polite even when he clearly wasn't in the mood for corny jokes.

Hogan hugged his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. “Come lay down with me?”  
  
When Klink obliged, Hogan leaned into him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He blushed remembering his bizarre dream— he wondered if Klink perceived the smart aleck teenager that Hogan sometimes felt like around him. No doubt it was an irrational thing to worry about. Klink vented to him like the peers and officers they were, and he leaned on him now in return like every sentiment was requited.   
  
Hogan's own grip felt weak when he took Klink's hands in his own. He stole another glance at his watch and did the arithmetic in his head.   
  
“It's been over 18 hours,” he said to the silence between them. He approached the uncomfortable subject and soldiered through it. At this rate he was intrigued, and he was ready to give Klink something special. “You know, since I've passed anything. I was practically running on empty when you threw me in here. I think I'm ready for you.” What a thing to say, and what a way to say it. Despite his weary expression and unkempt appearance he tried to give Klink the handsomest, most charming smile he could come up with. He wanted Klink to want him. “I need a break and so do you.” Then he leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Please, Herr Oberst?”

Klink could have seriously considered Hogan's offer of switching sides. Right now things were looking quite grim on either side of the fence and Klink could not shake the uneasy feelings he had about all of it. He may have been gullible with Hogan but he wasn’t completely stupid. Something about the whole situation and how it had been handled seemed off. The timing was too convenient. Hogan’s lack of a reaction suggested he already knew what had happened.

 

Later, when everything wasn't so messy, he would look into it. He owed that much to Bachmeier— to find out the truth behind his death. He would question as many of his guards as necessary to discover all of the secrets that his own men were trying to hide. 

Now, his mind was on other things as he came to sit with Hogan. It wasn't until Hogan drew him into his embrace that he touched back down, eyes focusing on the strong wrists which locked him in like a safety line. Klink sighed softly and relaxed against Hogan, his lips finding the man's mouth for another soft but lingering kiss. Hogan's lips trembled against his own, his grip weak on Klink as he tried to hold him tight. It was enough to seriously reconsider the seventy-two hour challenge he had put the man up to. Judging by the look in his eyes, Hogan had already resigned from it before he’d even brought it up.   
  
“That is enough time.” Klink agreed softly, turning so he could hold Hogan's face in his hands and look him straight in the face. “I'll have Schultz come get you when I have everything ready. You are right, we both need it.” If it hadn't been for Hogan's sweet kisses he would have wondered if it was just another ruse. When Hogan smiled at him he could have melted off of the bed into a puddle at his feet. It didn't matter how awful Hogan looked or felt— indeed he wore the rugged look  _well_  and Klink could only grin back somewhat wolfishly. Despite all that had happened yesterday, today and quite possibly tomorrow, Hogan would finally be _his_ completely and that thought warmed him more than he expected it to.   
  
“I'll see you soon.” He was short on conversation topics, he had a lot to get done before the man showed up at his quarters tonight. Quickly he was giving the colonel another parting kiss before he left, his hand squeezing his shoulder in a way that Hogan had dreamt about only a short time ago.   
  


* * *

 

Schultz escorted Hogan to the Kommandantur in solemn silence. Bachmeier's death must have been sitting heavily on him. He was a good staff sergeant and he cared deeply about those under his supervision. Regardless of how Hogan's men felt about the guard, Schultz seemed to be carrying the guilt for the entire camp. But when they stopped outside of Klink's quarters, Schultz's words surprised him.   
  
“Colonel Hogan, there is something I must tell you before you go in,” he said, giving him a strangely serious look. He spoke almost like he was talking to one of his corporals. “The kommandant is not a strong man. Please, don't make any more trouble for him tonight. I mean it, Colonel Hogan!” There was a tone in his voice that suggested it was indeed a warning. Since when had Schultz become so protective, over Klink no less? Maybe the 'suicide' had made Schultz uneasy about a lot of other things. More things Hogan didn't know about, most likely. 

  
  
Klink's quarters seemed elegant and enticingly warm after two days in the Cooler. Klink was already sitting at his table with a meal in front of him. Another date night with Hogan was already in session long before the colonel was walking through his door. Hogan flopped heavily into the chair Klink gestured to.   
  
“Come in, come in, I've everything prepared for dinner.” This time the meal was not nearly as extravagant but it was just as well. No need to make the man sick on rich foods after having fasted for such a long stretch of time. He had taken every choice into consideration for Hogan, a light wine had been brought in to accompany their light meal.   
  
Klink had made arrangements for more than just a dinner, of course. Tonight was a very special night and he had gone through some trouble collecting fresh towels, new soap, even a new shaving kit with aftershave that he thought Hogan might like. Fresh silk underwear had been laid out on the bed for him to find after his bath— if he chose to wear anything at all. Klink intended to worship him. Classical music from before either of their painful lifetimes played softly in the background, and he kept the lights low and intimate. A few candles had been smuggled out of his disaster supplies and he stood to light them now while Hogan settled behind his place setting at the table.   
  
The kommandant wore his nicest uniform again. The hands opening the wine bottle were clean and freshly manicured, and he grinned when he caught Hogan noticing the small details while he moved to fill his glass. It was a nice feeling to be trusted like this once again. Over the course of three months the colonel had become quite accustomed to Klink, enough to let him pour the drinks so that he could be properly pampered. If Hogan let him and, if he could do so with the connections he had, he would give him anything he asked for. He certainly had tried harder now that Hogan had become receptive to his advances. Surely Hogan knew it as much as it went unspoken between them.

Hogan nodded to Klink while Schultz slipped into the kitchen. He returned with Hogan's dinner and placed it before him. It wasn't the meat and potatoes he'd been anticipating— instead he stared at a slice of dry bread and a plate of jiggling aspic.   
  
“Just what I've been craving,” he said with brazen sarcasm. “When this war is over, I'd like to take you to a drive-up burger stand just so you can see how much harder this has been on me as an American.”   
  
Klink seemed to ignore the comment but after he dismissed Schultz he selected one of the grouse legs on his plate and plunked it onto Hogan's.   
  
“I don't want to hear you complain later,” he said apologetically.   
  
“We could just not do this,” Hogan suggested, Klink's tone inciting a cruel frustration in him. "What are you gonna do if I complain about something else tonight, like if it hurts or something?”   
  
“Then I will stop,” Klink answered plainly. “Please don't start an argument about this, Robert.”   
  
“I'm not arguing,” Hogan replied, pushing the aspic around on the plate with his fork. He hadn't considered what he'd said. He didn't mean to pick a fight. Grudgingly he tried to eat what he'd been given. It was underwhelming but the food sat well in his stomach. “I don't feel too great right now. I'm sorry. I want to do this but I'm hungry and cold and dirty. I can't possibly be very attractive to you right now.” Indeed, he could smell himself through his flight jacket and he was sure Klink could, too.  
  
Klink smiled, eyes shining.   
  
“If you only knew. I never imagined we would be sharing another night like this together. If it is a dream, I hope I never wake up. Tonight, everything you ask for you will get, even your freedom if your imagination allows for it.” He said with a dreamy sigh. He offered Hogan a gentle, honest smile.   
  
“Freedom?” Hogan laughed aloud at the word, at the very thought of it. Somehow it seemed farther away than ever before. Hogan tried not to worry about it and focused on the wine being poured instead. 

“There are no expectations tonight.” Klink assured him. “If it means anything, fasting always made me feel horrible too. I felt worse after binging on heavy, rich food. This arrangement on your plate is probably the best thing for you. I've done it enough times to know. You’ll feel like yourself in no time.” He mentioned with optimism. His words revealed a bit of his history and he hoped Hogan appreciated it. He had not always been the assertive lover Hogan had come to know. Klink pinned him with a knowing look before settling back into their meal, shedding no more light on the subject. Instead, he forfeited more of his grouse over to him.

“This bird is lean enough, it won't hurt. Damn you, you have no idea how hard it was to leave you in there like that.” He admitted before throwing back his glass of wine.   
  
_It gets harder and harder to tell you 'no' each and every day_ , he told himself. 

 

After he ate—Klink had eventually given in and shared his entire meal right off of his plate— Hogan was escorted to the bathroom. The luminous grin on Klink's face matched the splendor laid out for him on the counter. Hogan fanned his thumb through the stiff bristles on the new shaving brush waiting for him. Fresh, shave soap still in the wrapper, too— it must have cost a fortune, and Hogan smiled to wonder if he and Klink knew any of the same contacts in the black market.   
  
“You really know how to treat a fella after you've starved him in a dungeon.” Hogan said. “And I enjoyed every minute of it,” he added when Klink turned around to raise an eyebrow at him. He had his sleeves pushed up and was drawing him a bath. The steam from the hot water fogged his monocle and he slipped it casually into a pocket. Then he stood up straight and stared at Hogan expectantly. 

Klink meant it when he said that he would spoil him, dinner had been tense if only because Klink was still settling after a particularly jarring day. He was not in the mood to play with Hogan tonight in the way that the subject started to go. Any other day might have been fine but Klink hadn't the energy for it tonight.   
  
Hogan only had to look into his eyes to know what he liked. He read Klink so easily, anticipated his desires. It didn't matter who was being played, it was all just a different level to their game. He trained his focus right into those demanding eyes and calmly answered their unspoken order. He said nothing but shrugged off his jacket and handed it over, and his shirt followed a moment later. He hadn't yet warmed up from the stay in the cell, and he stood rigidly in the brisk but steamy air. He lost contact with Klink's eyes as they raked over his body with such intensity it made him shiver.   
  
He began to unfasten his belt but stopped under the smoldering gaze.   
  
“It's not fair of you to look at me like that after so long and not even touch me,” he sulked, and brought his hands up to the collar of Klink's jacket instead. He moved in close, pressing his hips tight against Klink's body. “You haven't even kissed me since you let me out.”

  
Hogan drove him mad, the longer they were together the easier it was to forget about the whole world that existed just outside his living quarters. He took his time drawing a hot bath for Hogan with salts and oils, when it was perfect he stood to address Hogan but instead caught his eyes in a wordless exchange. The colonel started undressing himself, it was as simple as that, Klink had wanted it so badly that it must have been obvious. Klink felt a shiver of pleasure move through his body as he watched Hogan's hands push the jacket off of his shoulders, pull the shirt over his head, and unlatch the buckle of his pants apart with such swagger that his mouth went dry.   
  
“You are right. I have been too busy admiring you from afar. It has been too long.” Klink's hands wound their way around Hogan's body, his fingers slid under the band of his underwear before he pushed into Hogan's pressing hips with eagerness. Hogan's arms looped around him ignited a fire in his belly that made him hunger for something more. He let a hot breath go against Hogan's sulking lips. “I can't stand it when you pout like that.” Klink said miserably as he grabbed Hogan by the waist and drew him in entirely.   
  
Klink kissed him without hesitation, he kissed him as if Hogan had waited ten years for it and not ten hours. At some point Klink broke for air and realized the bathwater was nearly overrun. The kommandant sobered a little and glanced down to Hogan's trousers. Wordlessly he demanded them, and wordlessly they were handed over along with rest of his clothes.   
  
The bath was enticing. It was late in the season, almost winter, and the air was chilling enough on his bare skin to make him ache for the relaxing warmth. Hogan accepted Klink's offered hand and stepped into the tub. He sank into the water with a shaky sigh, settling against the back of the basin. 

 

Once Hogan’s clothes were safely tucked away Klink returned to sit on the edge of the tub, his hand dipping below the surface of the hot water. Hogan tried to relax— they'd done enough together that he shouldn't feel so scrutinized. He felt vulnerable in the water, so exposed sitting below Klink like this. Klink's expression didn't betray much of a reaction; he silently splashed the water over Hogan's shoulders and gingerly rubbed his tense muscles before standing to dry his hands on one of the fresh towels.   
  
“Take your time,” he said softly. “I will be waiting for you, Robert.” Then he was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:   
> Klink is interrogated by the Gestapo regarding the supposed suicide of his guard. It’s a long and stressful ordeal; Burkhalter says some crumby things to him. Afterward Klink visits Hogan and they agree that he’s fasted long enough. The evening starts off tense because they’re both tired and stressed and Hogan is uncomfortable from his stay in the Cooler. They eat together and Hogan tries to relax while they explore some mutual trust. Klink prepares a bath for Hogan and gives him some expensive new toiletries. Klink leaves Hogan to freshen up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for detailed summary concerning this work's tags and content warnings. Explicit chapter; summary describes explicit sexual content.

Hogan sank into the water up to his nose. The bath felt so good it almost hurt. His bones practically creaked under the water. How many  _years_  had he been reduced to icy showers in open-air stalls? He resolved to find more opportunities to stay over at Klink's quarters. Considering the generosity he'd been shown, he should’ve resolved to give Klink more reasons to invite him over.   
  
He stewed himself until the water was tepid. Revitalized and  _warm_  for the first time in days, he hummed to himself as he picked up the offered tools and gave himself the closest, finest shave he’d had since he’d been captured. Klink's razor was impeccably sharp.   
  
He admired his much-improved reflection but went back for a second round, picking through Klink's things until he found a hair tonic he liked the smell of. His hair looked so sharp, he even pressed in a few finger-waves at his temple to make Klink especially jealous. Now he was perfectly done up like some young punk looking for a dance partner.

 

Klink waited in the bedroom with the lights turned down. He had candles arranged around the room so that no corner was left too dark, and the heat had been going full blast since Klink returned from the solitary confinement so that it was comfortably warm. He sat in his favorite chair, a stack of books on the night table along with a decanter of rosy red brandy and two tumblers. Here he waited and wondered how Hogan might feel about this arrangement— how long it would continue, if it would continue at all after this night, and what it would mean for both of them.   
  
“Would you like a night cap?” He finally called out after several minutes of waiting. Hogan had long since drained the bathwater, perhaps he was stalling. Klink was already pouring himself a drink and one for Hogan as well in an attempt to chase away any troubling thoughts that might get in their way. Hogan had said it himself, he needed Klink. It was a confession that was a two way street, because Klink needed him too. 

 

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” Hogan replied.

  
The quarters were warmer now and Hogan abandoned the towel at his waist as soon as he entered Klink's bedroom. Klink waited wordlessly in the corner, reading and pouring some beautifully-colored liquor. He had laid out a new pair of silk boxers and a clean satin robe, both of which Hogan quickly pulled on. The candlelight flickered and cast dramatic shadows over Klink's features. His kommandant was still dressed. Hogan stared at him across the room until he raised his eyes and lowered his book.   
  
“Better?” Hogan asked, smiling brightly. “A little more enticing now, maybe?”   
  
Klink nodded and reached into a pocket to produce a new, clean pair of black gloves. Hogan's chest tightened at the sight. Klink smiled and curled a finger at Hogan to come closer before he slipped on the gloves one at a time.   
  
Hogan gladly obeyed, watching in delight as Klink flexed his hands to stretch the tight leather. He crossed the room and caught Klink's gloved hand in his own, pressing it to his cheek, kissing his palm.   
  
“You look very handsome, Robert,” Klink said. It was enough to make Hogan weak in the knees. He delighted in the eyes roaming over his fresh shave and crisp hair. It was such a powerful gaze— destroying when the stormy eyes flicked back up to meet his and smile cunningly. “I feel very lucky to have a boy like you.” The word made Hogan melt, sick as it was.   
  
“I missed you,” Hogan said plainly. He didn't feel meek, only honest.   
  
“Did you?” Klink said. “Show me.”

   
  
Hogan took a long gulp of his brandy and bent forward to place a soft kiss on Klink's lips before falling to his knees. He buried his face in Klink's lap and moved to start fussing with his trousers, but stopped before he undid the belt. He gazed up at Klink's face with sheer determination. He wanted to do something really special, something that would take Klink completely by surprise and blow his mind. Klink talked about sex like he'd  _been there_  and he knew all the secrets— Hogan wanted to show him that he had plenty of his own surprises.   
  
“Yes, Herr Oberst,” he sighed the words and bent further, down, down, until he was kowtowing on the floor at Klink's feet. His heart raced as he considered what he was about to do. He hesitated—was it too far? Then he did it before he could talk himself out of the shameful act.   
  
He grabbed the heel of Klink's boot to hold it steady and brought his lips to the toe of it, kissing it and then licking the polished leather. He groaned through his open mouth only a moment later, his chest fluttering now. He was already hard. He sat back on his haunches for just a moment so that Klink could see him through the silk boxers before he dipped back down to move on to the other boot. 

 

The only thing separating Klink from darkness itself was the candlelight as it flickered steadfast into the night. The sick grin that cracked his face apart ferried an energy of its own from that dark place inside of him. That Hogan desired to humiliate himself by licking the boots on his kommandant's feet was an incredible surprise and, oddly enough, Hogan appeared to enjoy it too by the hot moan he let out. Klink's eyes traced every movement Hogan made beneath him, he watched his breath fog the polished leather as arousal found its way into him. Klink licked his lips and leaned back in the chair, took a sip of his brandy, and rested his free hand against his trousers where his dick bunched the fabric, piqued with interest. Just the sight of Hogan on the floor was enough to make his face flush as the blood shifted directions entirely.   
  
“Robert…” his kommandant was at a loss for words but it was a gritty enough reply to Hogan's efforts for the colonel. He had not only surprised him, but he had impressed him on an entirely different level. “You are my only boy. You know that, don’t you? You are very special to me.” He did not forget to add. Hogan seemed to be encouraged by Klink's reaction and continued to be the obedient boy his kommandant not only wanted but  _needed_  tonight, now more than ever.   
  
Klink’s smile looked like a knife cut, his voice rough from stress-smoking, too much drinking, and hardly any sleep for days. The animal looked rakish, the insides of his eyes full of fire and his grin sadistic as he allowed himself to forget enough transgressions so that this whole affair with Hogan could even happen. What they were both risking costed more than their entire lives, but for the lives that they had lived both together and apart, it felt like it was worth it.   
  
Hogan sat back on his knees and displayed himself like a whore. Klink took immediate interest in what he had to show him— his cock was so thick it looked painful in the silk boxers. Already Klink wanted them to be removed, with the gloves on he couldn't properly appreciate them anyway. The kommandant was relaxed enough to squeeze his own balls through his trousers, his arousal becoming more and more apparent as he rubbed himself freely and openly for Hogan to see.

 

“You'll have to take responsibility for this Robert, good boys always do.”  
  
Klink reached for a cigar on his nightstand and stirred the tip of it in his drink before lighting it with the lighter he kept in his front pocket. He stoked it rather provocatively as if he'd been sucking on Hogan's cock instead. A cloud of violet-white smoke veiled him as he sucked through the tobacco to flavor it and smolder the cherry skillfully. The plumes of smoke curled nefariously around him in the dim light and when it cleared he had already unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his own cock out to stroke himself. Hogan returned to licking his boots. He intentionally produced a satisfied rumble to distract him. Klink liked it best when Hogan actively listened to him.   
  
“Aren't you glad that your kommandant keeps them so clean for you?”

 

He wanted that gratification from Hogan. He wanted Hogan to acknowledge what he was doing out loud because he yearned to humiliate him in ways that made his dick jump with pleasure just to think about. At some point the cigar in his hands was replaced by the belt that he had pulled from the waist of his pants, all black and beautifully bonded. It made the gloved hand that wielded it a rather blissful sight to behold from Hogan's point of view, especially when he used the folded end of it to tip Hogan's chin up so that they met eyes.   
  
“I want you to show me more.” His kommandant commanded.   


Hogan's heart skipped to feel the belt under his chin. He met the cruel smile and knew what Klink intended to do with it— he hadn't had such a thing done to him in over thirty years. It was completely shameful; nonetheless he couldn't help but smile to imagine the blissful crack of the belt on his skin.   
  
“Thank you, Herr Oberst,” he said before ducking down one more time to place a final kiss on the toes of each boot. Inside and outside of the bedroom, as an officer and a gentleman, he secretly admired Klink's high standards. “I know you like things clean—,” he swallowed the last of his pride but managed to keep from blushing at this point, “—I hope you'll appreciate my effort regarding that detail when you fuck me.”   
  
Hogan sat up on his knees. He placed his hands on Klink's thighs and dug in his fingers, staring straight back into shining blue eyes. Klink was a commanding lover but Hogan intended to dominate every facet of his attention. It was his favorite part of the whole thing. Klink's entire focus was on him. He pondered for a moment to find the words that would make Klink melt for him.   
  
“You will, won't you?” He asked. He smoothed his hands further between Klink's legs, teasing the open flaps of his trousers, dipping his eyes only for a moment to admire the cock peeking out. He couldn't help but grin even as he further humbled himself. Now he bent down again, this time to bury his face in Klink's lap. He breathed a hot sigh at the base of Klink's cock but at the same time avoided his eyes as he shamefully spoke his next words. It was the first time in his life he’d sunk so low. “You know I've been a good boy. Give me what I want.”   
  
Hogan coiled his hand around Klink's cock, flicking his eyes up now to study his reaction to the embarrassing begging. There was a stormy heat behind Klink's smile now that Hogan found incredibly encouraging.   
  
He rose to his feet, never once breaking their gaze. He tucked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, making a terrible display of himself. He wanted to get a real rise out of Klink, to impress him with how far he was willing to go for him, to subject himself to all of this in return for his most special attention. He tugged the underwear so that the elastic caught the head of his cock and it bounced lewdly. It made him feel great to lower himself in such a way.   
  
“You said you're not my boyfriend.” Hogan pouted, and this time nothing about it was put on. “I don't like that. I'm yours, and I'm gonna show you that. I'm gonna make sure you never wanna touch anyone but me again.”   
  
He kicked aside the boxers and lifted a knee to throw it over Klink's lap. He straddled the chair at a sideways angle, one foot at Klink's side, the other braced on the floor. He tugged at the belt of his robe and pulled it open, displaying himself for Klink to admire, touch, and enjoy. He took himself in hand and offered a few slow strokes before bending down to place an open-mouthed kiss on his kommandant's lips.   
  
“I'll be good for you. I'll be the best you've ever had.” Hogan nearly grunted into the crushing kiss. His fingers curled at the nape of Klink's neck. “Do it to me,  _tonight_.”

“You'll really give yourself to me?” Klink rumbled in reply, his grin broadening some as he felt Hogan's weight settle onto him. 

It had been so long since Klink felt such raw passion from someone else other than himself that it was overwhelming to him, even now, to have Hogan so hot and ready to give himself over not only his prisoner, but as his  _lover_  as well. How the times here in Stalag 13 had changed for such things to take place. In the beginning, all Hogan could think about doing was using Klink's secret admiration for him as arsenal to get what he wanted. Now Hogan couldn't get enough of his kommandant's generous affections as he threw his dignity to the shadows and put all of his trust into Klink.   
  
Between Hogan kneeling at his feet to lick his boots, kiss them, and standing to strip for him just to crawl into his lap, it was almost too much. Klink's head spun and his thoughts raced as fast as his heart did. Hogan spoke like he was rising up to a challenge that Klink had unintentionally issued him not long ago when he refused to let Hogan call him by a pet-name. A part of him had been deeply impressed by the gesture but the other part of him had been so incensed by his disobedience he’d denied him the affection.

 

“If I make you mine, then you'll have no choice but to be the best, my love.” Klink affirmed with a sooty growl. “I’ve half a mind to leave you tied up all day in my bed so I can have you whenever I want you.” The threat sounded serious enough but that was the weight of Klink's words when he found something he truly enjoyed. In this case some _one_ , Hogan, his one and only.  _Du bist mein ein und alle_ , he had muttered the romantic sentiment under his breath. There would never be another quite like Hogan, and he wanted the man to  _feel_  that and to let his body understand it more intimately than words could ever describe. They kissed, long and hard and wet until Klink was humming against the man's lips. 

Hogan drowned himself in Klink's kisses and his affectionate whispers. Despite the raw hardness of their sex, there was so much tenderness in everything Klink did for him. Even when he jerked Hogan back by a fistful of his hair, there was a sweet look in his eyes. This was the man who had fallen helplessly victim to Hogan's cunning ways. With that in mind, Hogan gave a lurid sneer and let himself be urged back onto the floor.   
  
“You like me on my knees?” He asked aloud, cradling his face in the hands holding his jaw. He knew what Klink wanted. He hadn't finished what he'd started the other morning before the raid. Indeed, Hogan had yet to actually make his kommandant come with only his mouth. He was inexperienced on the matter and wondered how badly it showed. Klink hadn't complained but Hogan was determined to impress him one way or another nonetheless. He couldn't let Klink outdo him forever!   
  
He locked eyes with Klink and wrapped a fist around his cock to steady it and place a coy kiss on the tip. Klink's shaky breath made him grin. He parted his lips and let his tongue slip out to trace a loose circle around the slit. Klink was pungent with excitement and it made Hogan's lips curl to lap it up before taking him in his mouth. He'd sucked no other dick before Klink's, but he knew well enough what was good, and he could certainly copy many of the things Klink did to him. At least he was confident in his approach until Klink's fist tightened in his hair again and pulled him forward. Hogan coughed on the thick cock, his throat hardening unwillingly. 

  
  
He trained his eyes down as he pulled back to gasp for breath. Klink's fingers combed through his hair and his voice was kind if not cloying.  
  
“Relax,” he said, drawing his hands to gently stroke Hogan's neck. “You'll feel like you want to gag, but you can hold it back if you try. You only have to get past that.”   
  
Hogan nodded, trying not to let himself be bothered that Klink seemed to think he needed advice. He envied the way that Klink could swallow him whole— he wanted to do it as well, to bury his nose in the soft, dark hair on Klink's body. He couldn't be discouraged. Klink only had the upper hand because he'd gotten in so much more practice. Hogan had always been a quick learner. He dipped his head forward and parted his lips again, dragging his tongue wetly up the underside of Klink's cock. He was so hot and heavy with lust, he was flopped back onto his stomach. Hogan held him steady and sucked on him hard, producing a vulgar noise while he slurped at his balls.   
  
Klink made a tender little noise in response to the crude act and Hogan hummed back gratefully. He tried to find a rhythm, his brow furrowing in concentration. Klink was  _big_. Hogan's mouth opened wide and he took a deep breath before he tipped further on his knees and braced himself on Klink's thighs. His own cock throbbed jealously as he eagerly sucked, his mouth already burning. 

 

For the level of pride with which he always carried himself, Klink could admit to having very little of it right here, right now. Hogan's mouth felt like bliss wrapped hot and tight around the core of his very being. Fire paved through his veins making him quite feverish with desire. The need to indulge himself was the only thought on his mind when he grabbed Hogan by his hair and pulled his mouth down on his cock until his nose was buried in Klink's groin. Naturally Hogan choked. Klink felt more than delighted to instruct him how already knowing it would irritate the man. He'd have to punish him later if it caused him to smart off, and Klink silently hoped he would. Although it would be quite difficult for him to say anything at all with his kommandant's dick in his mouth.   
  
The thought made him smirk. The way Hogan looked at Klink made his heart race, there was so much heat coming off of his gaze that his kommandant felt almost powerless despite his position.   
  
“Again.” He breathed heavily. Klink loosened his grip on Hogan's hair and let his fingers cradle the back of his head as Hogan obediently went back to sucking his cock. “Good. That’s very good.” Klink sighed softly as he settled back against the chair. At first he simply guided his head up and down, forcing Hogan to go slow on him as long as he could stand it. At some point they fell into a silent but desperate rhythm. His kommandant kept a tight fist in Hogan's hair and used it to drive the man down and pull him up so that he could hear the wet sounds of his cock fucking Hogan's eager mouth. He growled loudly just hearing it.   
  
“All the way again.” He warned, the belt being pushed up against the back of his head to ease him down with another gusty sigh. “Good boy, Robert.” Klink breathed his name with great need but it served as yet another kind of urging. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold it like this, especially with Hogan gazing up at him the way he was.   
  
_So beautiful_ , Klink sighed to himself, his hips rocking harder and harder against the tongue and lips curling around him with growing need.

 

For some time Hogan lost himself to the wanton delight of it all. He couldn't be sure if it satisfied some horrid animal instinct or whether he was a pervert, but he found himself sincerely enjoying the feeling of having his mouth fucked. He forced his eyes open and shuddered to see Klink staring back down at him, lips parted as he sighed and groaned. Klink's reaction was so delightful he didn't even have to touch himself. He squeezed his neglected cock anyway. He felt too good now to be ashamed of himself.   
  
He tried to relax the way Klink had told him. If he came down on it at a certain angle, he was sure he could find a way to swallow it. He heaved a shaky breath and held on tight to Klink's thighs. His stomach lurched. His tongue stuck out and he could feel his throat swell. His instinct screamed to pull back but he gulped and sank all the way down until his chin rested on Klink's balls. He could've moaned, but for a moment he couldn't move or take a breath, so in awe that he could hardly _think_.   
  
Hogan's fist tightened. He rocked on his knees and desperately fucked his own hand, his full throat making him feel like he could come. Vulgar— he felt like he was choking and it was totally blissful. He reeled back for a quivering breath, moaning through his nose while he bobbed his head, making Klink good and wet. Saliva soaked the fly of Klink's trousers. Hogan felt like something out of a bordello, and he had long since crossed a threshold of being ashamed for it. He  _enjoyed_  being a little whore for Klink, or whatever it was that he saw in him. His boy?   
  
He trembled in excitement at the thought of wearing such a title. He cradled himself in his hands and lowered himself again on Klink's cock, swallowing him easier now that he knew what to expect. His mouth gaping crudely, he pulled back and then sank down again, shivering violently at the gruesome feeling.   
  
In a moment Klink's fist returned to the back of Hogan's head. Hogan wheezed and snorted while Klink fucked his throat. He willed his eyes to stay open to watch the blissfully strained expression on his kommandant's face. It felt so good to do this for him. Tears streamed down his cheeks from the rough treatment and he loved every sick moment of it. Even when Klink jerked him down too hard and he retched, he felt a dreamy smile bubble to his face while he was choking and coughing.   
  
He gasped for breath and sat back on his haunches. His own spit had dripped down his chin and he pitifully laid his head on Klink's knee.   
  
“Thank you, Herr Oberst,” he croaked with an utterly ragged voice. What else did Klink have in store for him? He wiped the mist out of his eyes and nuzzled Klink's thigh in what he couldn't even deny was pure, sweet submission. He couldn't recognize his own voice. “I love it when you use me. I want to be yours.” In every way, he almost added, but doubted whether Klink really wanted his affection. 

 

There would always be time for affection and tenderness—later. Right now all Klink could think about doing was getting more out of the man. If this is all it took to achieve this level of submission from the officer then what would it take to have him begging to be fucked? It'd be no easy chore for either of them, this Klink was very aware of that. The sex would be hard and it would be quick, and would most likely leave Hogan's head spinning from the encounter, so he wanted him as receptive as he could get him. If it required breaking him down entirely to reshape him for such a thing then so be it. Tonight, he wanted the man as malleable as he could get him. Forcing him down on his cock had been a good start. Yet the belt would be a better option in Klink's opinion if Hogan was still feeling comfortable enough to say such kind things to him. The leather was warm in his hand from holding it.   
  
“You will be mine… in time.” Klink would draw it out as long as he himself could handle it. Whether Hogan could last that long, they would both soon find out. Klink rose to his feet, his strong hands pulling a wobbly-kneed Hogan up with him. His kommandant wrapped his arms around the colonel's naked body and held him close for some comfort. His free hand combed through Hogan's hair and came down across his face to wipe the worst of the tears which streaked it. He knew the reaction all too well from his own experiences and, for the sake of Hogan's dignity, did not linger too long on that fact.

 

“Be a good boy and lay down on the bed.” A simple enough command, one that Hogan obeyed after a soft, tender kiss that Klink insisted on sharing with him. At that, Hogan laid down across his kommandant's bed on his belly, both hands reaching up ahead of him to wrap his hands around the headboard as if he already knew what was to come next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:
> 
> PWP chapter. Hogan joins Klink after getting cleaned up and surprises him by kissing and licking his boots. Klink implies that he’s going to spank Hogan later; Hogan learns to deep throat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for detailed summary concerning this work's tags and content warnings. Explicit chapter; summary describes explicit sexual content.

“Seeing you like this makes me weak for you,” Klink admitted as he tested the knots against Hogan's silk-bound wrists. The American was quite tantalizing being made to lay on his belly with his hands tied up. He looked helpless, which Klink chose to savor quietly now. The cooled leather of his belt slid down Hogan's bare back and over the round curve of his ass before it glided over the backs of his thighs. He repeated the same motion, wending a figure eight into his shoulders with the belt before ghosting it lightly over the man's skin which shivered and prickled at the sensations. Klink watched with an implacable grin while Hogan's body tensed and rippled with anticipation at the touch.

“Am I that predictable?” He wondered out loud as the belt stopped, the loop he had formed dropping after a moment's hesitation just to watch Hogan flinch as he braced for impact. For that, he snapped the leather over his ass as hard as he could straight just as he’d relaxed again, coaxing the yelp out of him when he least expected it. His ululation had been as pained as it was pleasured. Klink chuckled coldly, finding his composure over the arousal he was still feeling even after Hogan had stopped choking down his cock. 

Hogan gripped the steel bar and held his breath when he felt cool satin wrap around his wrists. Klink tied him carefully— it was a strong knot even in the slippery material. He shifted in the awkward position until his agonized erection rutted comfortably against the bed. If he came now he'd spoil Klink's nice bedding. Somehow he had a feeling that was the intention. Knowing Klink inside and out gave him an advantage even in these bizarre games of theirs, but it only made him that much hotter with anticipation. 

He couldn't help the cry that escaped him at the first impact of Klink’s belt. It was shock more than pain, although the buzzing sting where the belt had hit him made him hiss and recoil. It was different than the riding crop, which left hard little bruised spots on the surface of his skin. The pain from the wide belt was like drops of ink in water, blossoming out into his tender muscles long after the initial strike. Nothing else existed outside of the feeling. He never would have guessed pain could be so blissful. 

  
The belt was too natural in his hand and Klink wasn't about to go easy on him now that he had Hogan mewling for more while he stood by the bedside. Again, he struck and Hogan jerked beneath the belt like it was a surprise. The leather sang through the air again as it came down. By now three thick welts had started to blossom along the cusps of his cheeks and he sought to leave more as he then trounced him with steady, heavy-handed strikes. Klink gasped when he felt himself light-headed, he realized then that he had been holding his breath with his own anticipation. How much more of this would Hogan take? How much more could he take? Klink licked his lips and met Hogan's eyes as the colonel turned his head to the side to peer back at him.

“M-more...” Hogan gasped, too enraptured to remember to use Klink's special name. 

There was little mercy in his eyes as he folded the belt in half and licked the underside, the leather slick and shining in the candlelight as Klink let him truly have it then. He came down full force across his blazing red ass. The welt was already turning purple as the leather slid off of him. If Hogan wasn't crying by now from how crisp the slap of wet leather sounded then he was more numb than even Klink imagined. 

Indeed Hogan fought back tears. The pain was extraordinary. He would've thought himself too exhausted to move, but he writhed with each heavy-handed blow, whimpering and moaning as Klink revisited the spots he'd hit before. It was like a ringing in his ears that spread throughout his whole body. The pain throbbed through his veins and he found himself raising his hips to meet the wet leather. 

He was ready for whatever Klink would do to him next. The only thrill he could imagine beyond what he felt now was giving himself to Klink entirely. His body was wracked with agony and arousal. Klink trailed the belt up and down his tender ass, making the sore skin sing. 

Klink paused for a moment to pull back and then descend on him again, the blows falling erratically on his thighs and lower back. The strained noise that slipped past Hogan's lips between breaths was even more pitiful than his cries. He glanced over his shoulder. There was an unfamiliar darkness behind Klink's eyes and Hogan hungered to see more of it. 

Klink grinned back at him and his belt cracked against Hogan's thighs. At one point the loop must've slipped, or perhaps Klink was just that cruel. The tip snapped at the curve of his ass near his balls and it was all over. Hogan managed an embarrassing whimper while he shuddered and came. His hips bucked awkwardly against the bed and he could feel the mess he'd made between himself and the bedding. Hogan gripped the rods of the headboard so hard that Klink was sure he was bending metal by the time the colonel's orgasm tore through him. It had him roaring like gale-force winds and he could feel Hogan's body shake and tremble as he came. Klink hadn't touched his cock once— still his orgasm was long and exhausting. He collapsed with his arms still above him, the satin cord cutting his wrists with his weight pulling at them. 

  
“Fuck me.” Hogan panted when he could remember how to speak again. Klink was no longer whipping him but he couldn't imagine that it was over. It couldn't be over yet— he couldn't stand it if Klink stopped because he'd came already. “Please?” He tried asking. Klink stood beside the bed and laid a hand on Hogan's back at the question. This game was vile and degrading— it wasn't enough to make him stop. Vile, he repeated to himself, feeling like he was taking it too far. Then again, he wasn't the guy wielding the whip. “C’mon... I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

  
Klink did not have time to feel sorry for anything with such an erotic display laid out before him. He took great interest in this new facet to Hogan. He quickly removed himself of his clothes, his body craving to know how soft and warm Hogan's body felt against his. He hung it all with care on the back of his lounge chair but his boots and socks had been scattered in a trail back to the bed. The suspenders he tossed landed with a klink somewhere in the dark but he'd worry about it tomorrow when he needed to. 

“I'm going to enjoy making you mine.” Klink's eyes narrowed and his voice sounded sinister, his smile was wolfish when he offered Hogan a pleased look. He was mostly pleased with himself, of course, because in the end of it all Hogan was his in an incredibly special way and it both delighted and terrified Klink all at once. His kommandant moved to wedge himself between Hogan's knees where he sat and admired the view of Hogan's ass before really answering his question. “Have you been good, Robert? Good enough to deserve being fucked? Here is your answer.” 

He answered by showing off the clear vial in his hand. Expensive oil swirled around and caught the candle light as he let Hogan get a good look at it— almost irreplaceable with the way the war had been going and he would use every drop if he had to. Klink did not look too bothered about it as he popped the cap and overturned it to spread it down the crack of Hogan’s ass. He let it drip once, twice, three times more, all deliberately slow just to introduce Hogan to the idea that he'd have to let a lot down a lot of shields to get through this.

Klink leaned over his back and kissed on his shoulders lovingly, his arousal pressing against the colonel's thigh as hot and as hard it could ever be. Quickly his hands were tugging and pulling at the satin cord until it finally came free. Hogan’s arms fell tiredly to the bed.

Then, just as soon as he’d been freed, Klink brought the leather belt over Hogan’s head and looped it around his neck. He paused, meeting Hogan’s eyes, then cinched it tight after Hogan’s silent nod. He gave it a gentle tug and Hogan pulled back against it, a slow smile threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“You might not enjoy every moment of this,” Klink warned against Hogan's ear. “—I will, however.” His kommandant gave Hogan's ass a firm squeeze as he ran his fingers along the welted curves of it. The oil worked its own way down. Klink did not feel as though Hogan needed a brochure to figure out what happened next, but some guidance was still needed. His kommandant's hand was firm but fair when he pushed up against the cleft of Hogan's ass and spread it wide over his palm while his thumb smoothed the oil around in soothing circles.

  
Hogan gulped and tried to do as he was told. It wasn't something he'd ever even especially cared to do to himself and he could hardly imagine finding a way to relax and enjoy it. He was grateful at least for the smooth oil then as Klink slipped the finger slowly in and out of him. His breath hitched, voice trapped in his chest. 

Klink’s gaze met Hogan's, briefly. Hogan's eyes seemed to roll back into his skull in shock after Klink pushed his thickest finger into him once enough oil had been applied. The tight heat he felt came with an appreciative growl from Klink who waited to see that simpering grin return to Hogan's face before continuing. 

Hogan couldn't stop himself from crying out. He was not prepared to accept the feeling, even though, strangely, it was very familiar and it was exactly what he'd expected. It was gruesome enough to make his lips tremble with nausea. His muscles tensed and he dug his fingers into Klink's bedding where he stiffly braced himself. 

He forced his eyes open and he blushed to find out that Klink was carefully studying his face. He absolutely wanted to get through it. He had to. He tipped his head back and pulled on the belt, letting it tighten around his throat. He wheezed and thrust against the bed even though his erection was long since spent. It all felt so good, he tried to lose himself to it. 

“Don't stop, okay?” He grimaced as Klink's finger pressed in to the knuckle. He needed Klink to trust that he wanted it despite everything, so he rocked his hips slowly, carefully trying it out. Klink made a pleased hum. Hogan couldn't see himself getting used to the feeling but he wouldn't give up. The finger moved with a little more ease and stroked him inside in such a way that made him sigh and shake. He focused on the idea of having Klink inside him— for that reward alone he would work through the bizarre feeling.

Klink anticipated Hogan's look of horror as his mind distinguished what his body could not. Soon he got through it. In time he was begging for more like the masochist he was. A man like Hogan did not come around very often. It had been cruel of Klink to force so much so soon and he worried he’d scare his gem away. Hogan wore his discomfort like he was experiencing Klink's crop for the first time.

“Tell me to stop—,” He began.

“Don’t stop.” Hogan cut him off.

And so, he continued to finger him slowly until he was slippery from the inside out with the oil Klink was more than generous with. Two fingers was utterly too much but Klink gave him a slow and gentle touch that eventually forced a jagged moan out of him as it might any virgin. There was something sickeningly beautiful about watching Hogan struggle to stop resisting. The way his body shuddered and shook against his kommandant's careful guiding hands was enough to make Klink nearly lose it. 

Hogan's body tensed and twisted as it resisted the invasion of his touch which spread and twisted around carefully inside of him as if trying to dial Hogan into the right frequency before he fucked him. Klink found himself lost in a moment of time where he was trying to remember the last time this kind of a situation had even been a tangible thing. Soon the colonel voiced his frustration in his own way.

“I ain’t a radio. Are you going to fuck me or tune me?”

Hogan didn't have the longevity for this sort of thing. He wanted it now before he lost the nerve. Klink withdrew his fingers much to Hogan's relief. That relief was short-lived. The sheets were ruined one way or another, but Hogan shuddered feeling the steady crawl down his balls and cock as Klink used more oil. It felt like an obscene amount had been used by the time Klink was hoisting Hogan up by the hips, urging him onto his knees. 

The height of arousal brought with it the heightened sense of awareness. Klink's eyes continued to wander and search all that he could of what Klink considered a most divine figure. He couldn’t say what he enjoyed more— the sable hair that dusted Hogan’s body or the muscles that tensed and tightened with anticipation every time Klink moved against him. The welts that marred his skin were darkening into bruises where Klink had struck him enough times to leave a most painful reminder. It would take weeks for it to clear up. Klink traced his fingers along a particular stripe that painted Hogan's ass black already and decided he needed him now. 

A shuffle of hands and knees happened, a wordless reply from Hogan who let himself get hoisted then dropped in a particular manner that left his ass up in the air for Klink to try pushing into him gently. Hogan jolted the second he was broken into with a loud huff of air as it left him entirely. Klink waited, his dick just kissing the heat of his lover's body and already knowing it might not be good enough. Still, Hogan said nothing and so, Klink tried again. Hogan sounded like he was crying out in rage as his kommandant's cock slid into him. It didn't take a seasoned partner to know that the angle felt off. Hogan practically lunged forward the moment Klink tried to take it deeper to get away from the discomfort it was causing. 

Hogan desperately tried to play it casual. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, nonetheless Klink's cock inside of him exceeded anything he could have been prepared for. He could not relax. Each time Klink slipped into him, his back went rigid and he felt as if he should salute. He was trapped between pain and numbness, and something else he couldn't quite describe— perhaps pleasure? 

His own cock was flaccid and all but forgotten, but oddly the thrill of it was not lost on him. He felt exhilarated and manic the way he had when he'd been alone in the Cooler earlier. Wild thoughts tore through his mind and made him sneer and grit his teeth while Klink painfully fucked him. 

“Sorry,” he wheezed. 

“Don't apologize,” Klink answered. 

Klink was not discouraged. Hogan could get himself through it and his kommandant knew so. He knew this side of Hogan because he knew himself— they were not so different after all. His kommandant was gentle yet firm, another attempt drew an uneasy and hoarse noise from Hogan who was simply trying to grin and bear it. That would do no good for Klink who wanted to fuck him, not be sheathed in him like a sword trapped in stone. If they were going to get anywhere then Hogan would have to find a way to get more comfortable just so he could relax. 

“Roll over, my love.” Klink passed the man a gentle enough grin as they met eyes. The intimacy of having Hogan looking at him had not been in the plan but he would be fooling only himself if he was still convinced that this was all simply for 'convenience'. Klink's hands were trembling with pent up anticipation as they ghosted over Hogan's naked chest... “Your back must be throbbing with pain by now. Focus on the bruises I gave to you. Think about how much it's going to ache at night when you try to sleep.” All this while lifting Hogan's knees and rubbing himself down with yet more oil. 

Hogan didn't jump nearly as high when he was hoisted up further by the man's strong knees and shoulders. Every muscle in Klink's frame was tense with a strength that was visible even in the dull light. He held it rather steady for a man his age, more so as he rocked back and lowered Hogan onto an expecting cock. The head slipped in with ease and the sound Hogan gave wasn't so strained. His face twisted into an unreadable expression as Klink filled him wide and deep. His kommandant could not help but moan loudly in pleasure, his balls ached as the tight warmth of Hogan's body enveloped him entirely. When Hogan's hands wrapped around the backs of his own thighs to help hold himself for his kommandant he was encouraged to finally make his moves. Hogan didn't jump out of his arms entirely when he pulled out and entered him again more quickly and Klink decided he couldn't stop now even if he wanted to. 

The intimacy of being flipped onto his back was the final straw. Hogan’s eyes and mouth hung open and he gawked up at Klink's face almost drunkenly. How did he end up here? When he flew that last fateful mission over Germany, how could he have guessed he'd end up in bed spreading his legs for the kommandant of a prison camp? Unbelievable or not, he was doing it, quite wilingly, too— his freed hands held his knees apart for Klink like a broad. That was where the similarities ended. This wasn't a situation where he could close his eyes and think of England. Hogan cried out sharply when Klink entered him again. He smirked— God Save the Queen, but that was strange. 

It was shocking. His body was shaking beyond his control, the feeling eliciting a stress response he couldn't suppress. When his lips began to tremble he cast his arm over his face, screaming into the crook of his elbow while Klink fucked him. His wailing voice practically rattled the bedroom walls. 

The sex that had started off tender grew fast and frantic quickly. Hogan wordlessly encouraged Klink to keep going and to not stop. His cries only heightened Klink's pleasure and he found himself balls-deep in the man and coming hard shortly after, his fingers digging roughly into Hogan's shoulders. He all but crumpled against Hogan's heaving body, his cock not nearly as pinched as it had been moments before making a complete wreck of the man beneath him.

A moment later he was already pulling out. Hogan could feel the mess between his legs and it further served to embarrass him. Even the blissful kisses raining down on his face and neck couldn't stop him from shaking. He tentatively reached out to Klink from where he lay, stiffly lowering his legs, trying not to panic at the painful sensation that had not ended when Klink pulled out. He tried to stay calm— he knew he was fine, but he couldn't convince his body. 

Klink told himself he could have gone much longer if Hogan hadn't been so tight, but this was not a complaint he would be expressing any time soon. The experience had been mind-blowing and euphoric and it had been enough so that neither of them had a chance to break themselves before completion. He slipped from him cleanly and laid against Hogan's still-straining body. Whatever it was that had him trembling left Klink curious. 

  
The sobs that slowly began to escape Hogan’s lips felt cathartic and almost instinctive. There was no option but to stop fighting himself and let it happen. He cried softly, wordlessly into the pillow while Klink settled beside him and rubbed slow circles over the parts of his back that weren't bruised. By now he was sure Klink was familiar with what he was going through. His gentle smile seemed genuinely charmed and not at all offended by Hogan's response. 

“That was great,” Hogan promised anyway, surprised by the simpering tone of his own voice. Perhaps Klink was the way he was because he'd been fucked too hard too many times. Still, he tried to sound assuring. “I can't belive I'm crying. I liked it.” 

Klink's grin was not at all patronizing, although it made Hogan blush. 

“Tomorrow you will be so sore you won't remember how to cry.” He tried to sound lighthearted about it, although Hogan didn't seem overly amused. He tried not to let on too strongly how giddy it made him to see Hogan so broken. Klink knew that he was seeing the most private aspects of Hogan's personality— something likely witnessed by very few living souls. Klink was brimming with absolute delight, but it was all tainted with something sour that made him feel very concerned for Hogan. He squeezed his shoulders, trying to find some way to ease his humiliation. 

“My first time was quite excruciating,” he said softly, reverently. “You've done very well. As always, you impress me very much, Robert. There has never been another quite like you.” 

The praise elicited an uncomfortably familiar flutter in Hogan's heart, like a faraway dream he'd forgotten he'd dreamt until now. He couldn't exactly say why it was so thrilling to hear that Klink was proud of him, but it made his heart swell enough to inspire a second round of silent tears that he angrily blinked out of his tired eyes. 

Hogan curled into his embrace. At least Klink couldn't see what a wreck he was when he buried his face in his chest. He felt clammy and lightheaded, and the remaining logic in him made him worry if the pain and stress on top of the fasting was enough to send a man into shock. His heart raced and his thoughts were frantic like he was about to dip into a bad episode. All because of the way it made him feel to hear kind words from Klink. 

“Thanks,” he whispered tiredly into soft gray and black curls, finding comfort in listening to Klink's slowing heartbeat. He'd have to deal with this problem later. For now, he just wanted to hear some more nice words. 

“You are beautiful, Robert.” Klink practically crooned as he cupped the side of his face and leaned over to kiss him gently. He hoped he wasn't too rough on Hogan in a way that would make the colonel never want to know this part of Klink again. “Stay with me tonight. Please. I need you.” The tenderness he felt was unexpected, the attachment to Hogan had grown to monstrous proportions. The weight of the feelings sex brought with it overwhelmed him but he decided to fight back the urge to shower Hogan in affections just yet. Another day, perhaps. Hadn't he tortured Hogan enough already?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:   
> Strictly pornographic chapter. Bondage, impact play, and awkward first time anal. A little fluff at the end.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for detailed summary concerning this work's tags and content warnings.  
> Thank you to those who have been following this story. We're sorry for the delay in posting. We've had a hard time but we're really excited to be able to finish posting before Christmas! Happy holidays yall!!!

Hogan gazed silently up into Klink’s eyes from across the compound. The change of seasons was especially noticeable this morning. He zipped up his jacket against the brisk air and watched his men’s breath rise in hot puffs behind him. He kept his eyes trained forward—he hadn’t had time to speak to anyone before he’d slipped into his usual place in the roll call lines, but he’d caught a few strange looks that ranged from concerned to amused. Perhaps in three days’ time he’d missed a good joke. He just hoped he wasn’t the butt of it.

His nerves were completely frayed. He tried to assure himself that he had no reason to be so jumpy. All the stress was making him paranoid. He needed to have more faith in his men. Surely they trusted him as implicitly as Klink did and suspected nothing. Still, he thought of his conversation in the cooler with LeBeau and wondered whether anything would come of it. He didn’t want to consider all the issues he’d only postponed in his absence.

At least he could distract himself watching Klink try not to betray his confusion at seeing Hogan at roll call. He must’ve actually believed that Hogan would obey his orders to stay in his bed that morning, and seemed even more stymied that Hogan had so easily uncovered the hiding spot where he’d stashed his clothes in an effort to slow him down. Indeed, Hogan had surprised himself by how fast he could get back into his barracks from the tunnel entrance in Klink’s quarters, especially while pulling on his uniform in the dark. He’d strolled out of Barracks 2 wearing a sharp smile, and making sure Klink watched him calmly stand up straight in his place as if his body wasn’t wracked with aches and pains.

Confidence is the easy part, he thought pointedly at Klink. Fake it until it's real.

There were plenty of things that couldn’t be faked though. He wondered for a brief moment at the new young private tailing Klink’s entourage until he remembered what had happened to the late Corporal Bachmeier. The thought of the issues looming overhead made him wish he’d stayed in Klink’s bed after all. London and the rest of them would just have to understand.

  
To their credit, his men knew they’d messed up. When they were dismissed they all hung their heads and filed silently into the barracks like they’d been anticipating a lecture since the moment they’d realized they’d made a mistake. As for Carter and LeBeau, they looked like they couldn’t decide between crying and being sick. Newkirk and Kinch didn’t let on so badly, but they still shuffled their feet and avoided Hogan’s eyes while they waited for the inevitable.

Hogan hated this part of leadership. He wished he could just let them off easy—better yet not mention it at all. He hadn’t even wanted to take the assignment in the first place, and he shouldn’t have been so sloppy about letting them handle it. But in the end he had a job to do and appearances to keep up.

“You, you, you, and you,” he pointed to the four who stood solemnly around the table. “My office.” He tried not to seem tense despite his exhaustion. He’d come a long way from where he’d been 24 hours ago. He should have sat down and thought about all that had happened in the past few days before he made his next move. Instead he gestured for the men to follow him and shut the door behind them when they shuffled into his quarters.

“At ease, guys,” he sighed at their rigid silence. “Will someone just tell me exactly what happened?”

The silence was instantly shattered by four voices fighting to be heard over one another. Hogan put his hands up to quiet them again. This wasn’t going to work. They were too nervous—maybe he was too nervous and they were picking up on it. It probably didn’t help that they’d been left to wonder and fret without him for days.

“Alright, fellas.” He had to go about things the right way. He needed their mutual trust. “I’m sorry for putting the responsibility on all of you. I should’ve been here to help you. You can thank the Gestapo for that.”

LeBeau was the first to respond, spitting a string of French expletives. In a moment the rest of them were piping up again too. Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to count to ten but gave up quickly.

“Look, what are you guys gonna do if something serious happens to me? If I get called back to London, and Crittenden or someone worse gets stuck in my spot? I’m expendable too, you know.” It wasn’t at all what he’d meant to talk to them about, but it shut them up. He tried to right himself and bring the conversation back on track.

“Now, I mean it when I say I’m sorry that I dropped the ball on that mission.” He hoped they could appreciate his sincerity. “But we’ve all been blowing it around here lately when it comes to things like communication. I need you guys to keep me in the loop when there’s a problem, okay?”

A couple of silent nods were his only response. He sighed.

“We’re a team, guys. War or not, mission or not. Let’s have each other’s backs a little, okay?”

  
Another moment of silence, then Kinch cleared his throat.

“Do you suppose I could talk to you for a minute, sir?” He asked, softly. At last his face betrayed some kind of emotion. His brows were knit together and he wrung his hands.

Hogan hadn’t anticipated such a direct and quick reaction to his words. He’d had a feeling Kinch would have to come clean eventually, but something must’ve really been eating at him to make him confess so soon. He dismissed the others and gestured for Kinch to sit once the door was closed.

  
It was the first time since Hogan had come to Stalag 13 that he’d had to talk to the sergeant like this. Kinch looked to the chair and hung his head.

“Won’t you sit too? It makes me nervous,” Kinch admitted quietly.

“I’ll stand, sergeant,” Hogan said, trying not to roll his eyes at the circumstances that led to such a dilemma. But then at Kinch’s stiff posture he gave in and mustered a strong smile while he lowered himself as casually as possible to the edge of his bunk. Even the soft mattress pad smarted under him. He was in worse condition than he’d realized.

“Is that better? I’m not trying to scold you like your old man.”

“Actually, my dad was a softie,” Kinch said, at least taking the offered seat. He sat rigidly but Hogan could tell that he was also trying desperately to act casual. “Raised me alone. Kinda spoiled me, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Hogan prompted, knowing it was only a matter of time before Kinch broke. They always did. He could keep talking however long it took. The eagles on his shoulders made it hard for most honest men to stall for long.

  
“Look, Colonel,” Kinch sighed. He leaned forward and clasped his hands together, bracing his elbows on his knees. Hogan could see the tension already beginning to make his hands shake. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner.”

“About what, Kinch?” Now he was rubbing it in a little. Kinch was certainly smart enough to know it.

“Everything.” The sergeant’s voice was suddenly less timid than Hogan expected. “God, I probably could’ve prevented so much…”

“You’d better back up a little,” Hogan said, giving in and leading the conversation before it got out of hand. “What’s the deal with Bachmeier?”

Kinch shook his head.

“The guy was an asshole, Colonel. I must’ve had a blessed childhood because I’ve never met anyone like that up close and personal before. He liked to pick on me and a couple other guys because he knew he could get away with it. Who was going to tell him he can’t harass black prisoners, the Fuhrer?”

“Well, you could’ve told me there was a problem before you killed the guy!” Hogan’s voice was elevating too quickly. He’d been played at his own game and now he was the first to break. “Kinch, why didn’t you say something? You went to Schultz but you didn’t come to me!”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re always so busy with the crazy stunts London wants you to pull. They ask too much of you as it is. And then the whole thing with Carter and the fire happened, and you seemed overwhelmed already…” Then Kinch seemed to ponder it for a moment. His apologetic tone seemed to falter for a moment. “Anyway, you’ve seen him pick on us. I guess I just thought you knew.”

“I did?” Hogan asked.

“Well,” Kinch shrugged, “What about that time he made Clayton run laps just for looking at him? Or the time he spit in Baker’s food?”

Hogan knew the incidents in question. Even now he couldn’t be sure why he’d so easily dismissed the behavior as typical for any guard. Not that he was ready to admit it.

“That stuff happens to a lot of guys,” Hogan said, perhaps a little too defensively.

“Yeah, I guess.” Kinch said. “I also guess I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think you were going to do anything about it.”

  
Hogan threw his hands up in the air and stood because his aching ass was starting to make it hard to think. The muscles throbbed from where Klink’s belt had left dark bruises. It had been a session that would him leave him sleeping on his stomach and sneaking to the delousing station alone for weeks.

He paced in front of Kinch, not concerned now whether he made the man nervous.

“Would you care to tell me why you’d think I wouldn’t try to help?” He asked, trying to hold back his anger. He was hurt more than anything else. It felt like an accusation far worse than what it implied on the surface. He felt like he was being looked at the same as Bachmeier. Was that irony? “What kind of guy do you take me for, Kinch?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

Kinch’s eyes lit up with a heated look.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything about this, but you do dismiss most of the plans I bring you, half of the time for some crazy idea Carter or someone dreamed up. Because it’s easier to cram Newkirk into a dress and call it a day than to try something I’ve come up with.” Kinch looked back at him, unthreatened. “You have the balls to call me your second in command, but you weren’t even going to consider my latest plan until you went and got thrown in the Cooler.”

“I wish I’d dismissed that stupid plan altogether! I knew it was crap as soon as I heard it.” Hogan spat back. His natural instinct was to react in defense. Surely he wasn’t the jerk Kinch painted him to be. Although as soon as Kinch had said it, he could recall a good handful of times he’d done exactly as Kinch had described.

“Look, I’m sorry—,” he tried to say, but Kinch beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” the sergeant said, suddenly wide-eyed and mournful. “Oh, my God, I-I just realized why he…”

  
The mood had totally shifted in a matter of seconds. The argument was already forgotten. Kinch looked shocked; his hand flew to cover his gaping mouth.

  
“What? You realized what?” Hogan demanded.

Kinch closed his eyes and shook his head. He nervously smoothed his fingers over his mustache again and again, and his toe began to tap at the floor.

  
Hogan tried to keep calm, although the sudden change of direction had him instantly panicked. He’d braced himself for Kinch’s rage and frustration. He was getting ready to list reasons why he wasn’t a racist, to defend himself against a hopeless cause. Instead he was wondering if he was about to comfort a grieving man. He didn’t know how to react but he tried to do the right thing.

“Kinch, what’s wrong? C’mon, you know you can talk to me.” He placed a hand on the sergeant’s shoulder, which caused his head to snap up suddenly to meet Hogan’s eyes.

  
There were tears threatening to fall. Kinch’s face was pulled back into a tormented grimace. The look he offered Hogan was so sad, so full of heartache.

“I just realized why he was starving you while he kept you in there,” he choked, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop it. My God, Colonel, I’m so sorry.”

  
Hogan felt the room fall away around him. Fluttering pressure at his temples made him dizzy for a moment. All at once he remembered a fateful night when he was seventeen and staring down the barrel of a policeman’s revolver. He remembered being handcuffed for the first time in his troubled life, remembered pacing for hours in his cell at the county jail. And then he saw his mother’s stiff finger pointed in his face inside the back of the cab on the way home from his bail hearing.

“You’ve really gone and done it now, Robert. Your goose is cooked, boy. And you’ve no one to thank for it but yourself!”

  
Hogan tried to stay firmly rooted to the floorboards in the barracks. His hands were already shaking. Suddenly the paranoia he’d had earlier made itself present again, this time calling itself intuition.

  
“How do you mean, Kinch?” His voice almost cracked.

“I suppose I might as well tell you now.” Kinch stood. His hands were shaking, too, and he grabbed Hogan’s wrists to steady them. “That’s why I went and got those pills. It’s why I took out Bachmeier first, to see if I could do it. I…I’m going to kill Klink. I wanted to make him suffer for what he’s doing to you, but this way it’ll be easier. I just want to make the problem go away so we can finish this war and forget it ever happened.”

Hogan glanced to the strong hands holding him. He could feel the stress radiating from the gesture. Kinch was horrified. Up close, Hogan could see bags under his eyes as if he’d been missing sleep for a long time. How long?

“How much do you know?” Hogan breathed. His heart felt like it had stopped entirely. Fear settled like gravity pulling him straight through the floor. He couldn’t even berate himself for not heeding Klink’s warnings to be careful. All the regrets in the world couldn’t save him now.

Kinch was silent for a few moments. His voice was low and strained when he dared to speak again.

“I’m so sorry, Colonel.”

“How much do you know?!” Hogan repeated, jerking his hands free. “Stop apologizing and tell me!”

“I know what he’s... What you’ve been doing for all of us. How you get Klink to do everything for you. All those visits to his quarters, those nasty things he does to you…” Kinch spoke somberly, then he wrung his hands and began to pace. “Colonel, I gotta know—does London know about this? Because I swear, if they’re letting him get away with this for their sake—,”

“What? Ah, no. No, it’s not that… official.” Hogan stammered, grateful at least that Kinch had yet to express disgust in him for the situation. In the end, it seemed that his men did have faith in him—faith that he was not a sad, mixed up man who actually chose to be the kommandant’s plaything.

“How long have you known?” He asked instead of wondering whether he was sick in the head.

“I found out about a month ago,” Kinch said. “I just wanted to listen to you negotiate. I was curious, that’s all. I'm not that great at talking to people. So I started listening to the coffee pot when you went into his office.”

Hogan felt a second wave of anxiety threaten to sweep him away. How many times had he visited Klink for ‘business’ in the last month? His face turned sallow to remember the kinds of things he’d said to Klink during those sessions. There was no doubt Kinch had heard him beg for Klink’s riding crop—Hogan wondered if he’d listened to his pleasured cries of agony when he’d received it.

Hogan released a shaky breath and moved to return to his bunk. He had to sit down, although in his haste he made himself wince, which in turn made Kinch look like he was about to be sick.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid, so careless. Especially after Klink had made such a point to warn him about getting caught!

  
“Who else knows about this?” Hogan asked then, dying inside to consider what the rest of his men might think of him knowing what he sounded like at the receiving end of a riding crop. He wished he still had something in his flask right about now.

“I haven’t told anyone, I promise,” Kinch said, sighing and pacing in front of Hogan’s bunk. “I couldn’t stand it if anyone laughed at you for this.”

“Thank you.” Hogan closed his eyes. “Thank God.”

“Colonel, I’m sorry I didn’t do anything sooner.” The pacing stopped. Kinch took a breath, paused. The pacing resumed. His voice was sad and ashamed when he spoke. “Look… do you need to talk to a medic? I’ll help you come up with a story.”

“Jesus, Kinch!” Now Hogan cradled his head in his hands. This humiliation was far from the bliss he enjoyed with Klink. “No, I don’t wanna talk to a medic! I wanna curl up in my bunk and hide under the blanket until the war is over!”

  
“That’s it, then.” Kinch said after another moment’s pause. “I’m gonna kill him. This is what he’s reduced you to. You’re a goddamn officer in the US Army, one I've been proud to serve under. I can’t stand by and let this happen to you any longer.”

  
“C’mon, Kinch, you know that’s not the answer.” Hogan forced himself to protest, ashamed to know how highly Kinch still spoke of him. All he wanted to do was break down, but he had to keep playing at being colonel until he resolved the problem. He had to keep the situation under control. “I can handle it. We can’t foul up the whole operation because of this.”

“Sir, with all due respect, forget the operation.” Kinch had lost the meek tone by now. Only anger remained. “You know something I never told anyone? The krauts tortured my best friend. I’m not gonna let them get away with raping my commanding officer, too. And if London has a problem with it, they can talk to me.”

“Kinch,” Hogan tried to sound convincingly firm. He felt more like a scared child now than a leader of men. How was he going to resolve this one? He’d made the stupidest mistake of his entire career getting involved with Klink. “Look, there’s something you’ve gotta understand about all of this…”

  
There was so much he couldn’t fix now. So many conversations with his men he should’ve had before it was too late. Lies he should have planted, alibies he should have made before anyone was suspicious. What would save him now?

His instinct told him to tell the truth. He could trust Kinch, and he couldn’t afford anyone flying off the handle and making a move for Klink. Besides destroying the entire operation, Hogan would lose something he hadn’t realized was so important until now. The aches and pains in his body would be the only distraction he’d find today once this was over. He needed Klink more than he’d ever guessed he would.

Was he falling in love? He wanted to die for thinking it, but he couldn’t make himself deny it either. Either way, he was perfectly disgusted in himself.

Hogan tried to steady his breath. He forced his easiest, best smile, trying to show Kinch how calm he was. Nothing was wrong, everything was fine. See, Colonel Hogan is smiling, so should you!

“It’s not what you think. I know it’s gotta be pretty difficult to understand, but humor me if you can.” Confidence, he warned himself. “I like what he does to me. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel great. He treats me like I’m beautiful. I guess you could say it’s like having a little boyfriend. Surely you've known a guy who goes that way.”

He pondered at the confession. Klink himself had denied the title of his boyfriend, and had said nothing more about it even after he’d finished fucking him.

Either way, Hogan supposed it was pretty low on his list of issues. Kinch did not smile back at him. He did not seem especially reassured. He had frozen in place, his shoulders tensed like he’d seen a spider. More like a dozen spiders.

  
“Kinch?” Hogan tried, instantly regretting having listened to his instinct. Why would he go and tell any of his men a thing like that? He must’ve sounded like he was completely stir-crazy. What was he thinking?

“You gotta say something, Kinch. Help me out here.”

Kinch looked at him through his peripheral, his lips pressed together, eyes wide in horror or disbelief or perhaps something else entirely. Hogan regretted all the missed opportunities to get to know this man better, because he really needed to know what the sergeant was thinking.

“You're serious, aren't you?” Kinch finally breathed.

“I am. And I’m sorry I made you worry so much,” Hogan offered with truest sincerity. “I promise I’ll be okay. I know what I’ve gotten myself into.”

Kinch’s head swiveled as he took a slow, unsure step toward Hogan. Then his resolve must’ve crumbled because he fell apart, sneering and throwing his hands up.

“You like it? That, that torture?” Kinch spat. “How many guys in this war, Colonel— that’s the last thing that happens to them before the goons kill them? Men die having that sort of shit done to them out here, and you’re asking for it?”

Hogan squinted slightly. “How much of my personal life have you been listening to, anyway?”

“This whole fucking world is going crazy!” Kinch replied, clearly having reached his own breaking point somewhere along the line. “Everyone on this wretched planet is standing on his head!”

“Kinch, c’mon—,” Begging had never been so unflattering.

“Don’t ‘Kinch c’mon’ me! This whole war is a nightmare and I’m just trying to wake up.” Kinch continued to shout, making his way to the door. “I was just trying to do the right thing. The Army wanted me and I wanted to help. Then, one day I wake up and I’m in a cage in Germany running errands all night and all day— all for a C.O. who’s so busy pretending a Nazi is his boyfriend that he can’t see his men getting picked on right in front of him!”

  
“Did I say you were dismissed?” Hogan sputtered dumbly, weakly as Kinch turned and stormed out of his office and straight to the last bunk to pound on the side.

“If there’s something you need from me, I’ll be working,” Kinch replied, ducking into the tunnel before anyone could ask questions. The few men still sitting inside pretended to be very occupied in their tasks, or slipped out silently before Hogan turned his attention to anyone else.

  
As if he could’ve. Knowing now that he was being reckless, but feeling way too lost too care, he slammed the door behind him and swore aloud alone in his office. How could he have been so stupid? He could’ve figured out a way to keep Kinch from making any bad moves without admitting the truth. But instead he’d gone and opened his mouth for some reason—perhaps in his guilt over neglecting the abuse faced by his own men, he’d lost his head.

Anxiety tore through him. His veins were on fire from it— he itched inside his skin, craved escape from this place, from his life. How could he fix everything he’d done? How could he get himself out of this?

“You stupid idiot!” he screamed at himself, swinging at his locker, rattling the whole barracks when his clenched fist made impact. The pain scattered white stars though his vision, but did not bring the same relief as the sessions with Klink.

If he made it through this, he knew it would be a miracle. Either way, he’d desperately need another round with his kommandant.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary:   
> Hogan sneaks back to the barracks for roll call. He confronts his men about Bachmeier's death; he talks to Kinch and realizes he's ignored his men being harrassed. In the middle of the confrontation Kinch breaks down and confesses to knowing about Hogan's affair with Klink. Bachmeier's death was the first step in a plot to save Hogan from what Kinch suspects is abuse; Hogan admits the truth only to find that he may have pushed Kinch too far...


End file.
